


The Order of Time

by gothambeat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, First War with Voldemort, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothambeat/pseuds/gothambeat
Summary: Something happened in the graveyard that night. A spell no one predicted and an event set-off. Priori Incantatem turns out to be more than just seeing ghosts but a reversal of the spells all together. And those spells are decades old. (Harry time travels to the first war).





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter forced a breath into his lungs but it stopped in his throat. Still, he fisted his hands and pushed off the ground unsteadily to face what he knew was death.

He would not fall to Voldemort on his knees or hide like a child. He would stare down his death head on, like his father. Harry’s thoughts briefly settled on his parents, on the questions that he wished he could ask them at this moment - would it hurt, was there something afterwards? - but he shook his head against that. No, he had to act fast if he wanted to keep his bravery. With Cedric lying feet away, he couldn’t count on staying this stupidly stubborn for long. 

Harry Potter pulled out his wand and threw himself around the headstone. Voldemort stood ready for him. His eyes glowed in amusement even as his death eater followers gave a few tight gasps. Together, the Dark Lord and the Boy Who Lived cast their spells.

“Avada Keda-”

“Expelliarmus!”

A green bolt of light shot of from Voldemort’s wand and met the red stream from Harry’s in mid air. Voldemort’s eyes flashed surprised but Harry barely had time to register before a bright light engulfed them.

***

“Lily, he’s here! Grab Harry and run! I’ll try and hold him off!”

James shot to the door, trying to interrupt the shadow that had just blown through it. He wouldn’t be able to give her much time but dammit if he wasn’t going to give his wife and son everything he had. Voldemort’s red eyes were on him now and he saw the smile stretch to them. The sick and utter amusement. James Potter had never felt so powerless in his life. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flick of what must be the Dark Lord’s wand and knew it was time. Death. He tried not to feel fear.

“Expelliarmus!”

There was a bright light as the word echoed through the house and the green light coming from Voldemort’s wand met a stream of red in mid air. A man stumbled backwards, both hands grasping his wand in utter concentration, suddenly between James Potter and the death he knew only moments before.

The Dark Lord was so surprised, the wands disconnected almost immediately and he took a step back with furious eyes. The man - no, James saw now it was just a boy - blinked in utter bewilderment before raising his wand again.

“Expelliarmus!” he yelled in a breaking voice. Voldemort’s wand flew from the Dark Lord’s hand and the boy pressed on. “Stupefy!”

Voldemort shot backwards back through the doorway he had just moments ago entered intent to murder the Potter family. James saw him land on the lawn and with a hiss, took off into the air in obvious confusion and retreat.

What the hell just happened? How had Voldemort found them? And now he was gone? James Potter’s head was swimming with questions but he had fought the war long enough not to get lost in them. The boy had staggered into the wall, staring out the doorway at where Voldemort disappeared and was in obvious shock. Lily was upstairs with his son. And he needed a wand.

Spotting the pale piece of wood on the floor, James picked up the discarded wand from the fight and a shudder ran down his spine. Voldemort’s wand. It felt cold and ugly. He wanted to snap it immediately but he didn’t want to be around this kid without some kind of protection.

He cast the kid a glance. He was filthy, with torn school robes and blood from some hidden wound that may or may not belong to him. He had just taken on the Dark Lord but it was obvious he wasn’t willing to start another fight. The boy was still staring out at the lawn, keeping watch for Death Eaters or for Voldemort to return. Or maybe he was just in spellshock. Whoever he was, wherever he came from, this boy wasn’t a threat to them.

“Lily!” James called, racing up the stairs without a second glance. He flew open the door to the nursery.

“Not Harry!” Lily yelled, throwing herself in front of the crib with arms thrown wide like a human shield. Her eyes were wet but her tone was strong. James noted with terror that she was wandless. Kitchen, he realized. She had left it in the kitchen after scooping up their son to take to bed. After taken his own wand because he was making too much noise. Getting the baby too riled up. Five minutes ago they had been laughing. 

“James!”

Her voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. She looked surprised, relieved, scared and ready to fight all at once. Her green eyes met his before flashing dangerously past his shoulder.

“We need to leave,” he said, his voice catching. “Now. Get Harry.”

Lily was already scooping him up again, moving from the moment he started to speak. She cooed to him in a tone that wasn’t reaching James’ ears. He was already heading back down the stairs.

The boy sat on the floor in the entryway, his head between his hands. Dammit, he should’ve been keeping watch. James reached for him when he heard the raspy breathing and flinched, knowing a panic attack when he saw it. Spellshock then. And damn, this close he could see why. How old was this kid, thirteen? Why was he here and where the hell was the Order?

“Hey!” James snapped, anger started to win against the panic. “Get up, we have to go.”

The boy’s head snapped up at the voice and green eyes pierced his soul. Lily’s eyes. Harry’s eyes. James took a step back, wondering who the hell this person was. 

Apparently, the same thing was running through the kid’s head because his eyes were wide and frightened and confused. Messy black hair and broken spectacles just like- 

He heard Lily on the stairs and enter the kitchen, hopefully to retrieve her wand. She appeared in the entryway a few moments later and stopped dead.

“James?” she asked, her eyes on the stranger in the floor with caution.

“I don’t know,” he said but turned to her, letting her know he trusted the kid. If he was going to attack, he would’ve. Hell, he’d have let Voldemort kill them all. She held his gaze and he nodded. She held out his wand, the one he had left on the couch when she told him to stop making fireworks. Her hand shook when he took it from her but her voice was steady. 

“Where are we going?”

“To Dumbledore.” James couldn’t say more. He didn’t want to think about anything beyond getting out. Not why they were leaving. Not who he had just seen. And especially not why. Why that “who” had been here. James moved forward and pulled the kid from the ground roughly. “Can you apparate?” he asked.

The green eyes held his, never changing from the wide-eyed, almost-hysteric look as the boy shook his head. James cursed. 

“Alright Lily, take Harry to the Leaky Cauldron. I’ll be right behind you.”

“James,” Lily said, stepping forward. She took his arm but looked at the boy, a crease between her brow. 

“I promise,” James said. “Go now, they could be here any second.” He gave her the briefest of kisses, too brief to be their last kiss and then pressed one onto Harry’s head.

She nodded and her eyes were green and brilliant and so brave. And then she and his son were gone. Too easily. The wards were down and he felt so exposed in a house he had formed a family in. 

He turned back to the boy who had gotten to his feet beside him. James tried to ignore his appearance, the one that looked an awful lot like himself. Or his son. Dammit, this night was getting weirder. His eyes caught on the scar on the boy’s forehead. A lightning bolt that ran jagged down to the brow. A flaw. Focus on that.

“Hold onto me,” James said, more gently than he had a minute before. “Tightly. This is going to feel weird.”

The boy barely nodded and James decided to grab his arm instead of trusting the kid to hold on. He looked like he was going to be sick. The boy hissed in pain when James seized him and he drew back, seeing blood drip down to the floor. Same arm as Death Eaters. Merlin this kid was worse than he looked. James tried gripping him higher, thought of safety and apparated.

The Leaky Cauldron was empty for the night. The war had taken its toll on the business but it was for the best for nights like this. James opened his eyes and felt the boy lurch beside him. He held him long enough to keep him from crashing into a table but the kid was already falling to his knees and puking. James let him.

Lily was speaking to Tom a few feet away, bouncing Harry to keep him quiet. Who was on duty tonight? James couldn’t remember the schedule after the nerve-wrecking encounter and being out of the Order routine for too long. He hated hiding. He hated running. And now they were flying broomsticks blind into a storm. 

“James?” a voice asked from behind. James had his wand drawn and eye level before he was turned around and Kingsley had one hand up and the other with a wand pointed at him. His eyes scanned the room. “Lily?”

“Last thing you ever said to me?” James demanded, hand twitching. He heard Lily’s conversation stop and Harry begin to fuss somewhere behind him. He’d protect them. Give his life for them. 

“I said you ought to learn how to change a nappy,” Kingsley said. “What's the name of my house elf?”

“You don't have one.” The tense moment stretched on until it broke and both men lowered their wands. James felt his shoulders relax but Kingsley looked more on guard. 

“What happened?”

“Voldemort,” James said. “He attacked.” The auror was not expecting that. Kingsley might not have ever hosted a more shocked expression. 

“Come on, we need to get out of sight.” Kingsley nodded his head to the stairs as his gaze overtook the bar. They locked on the kid James had dragged with him.

“Who’s he?”

James shrugged. “I don’t know but he saved our life. Is he part of the Order?”

“Not that I know of,” Kingsley said. “Too young.”

“Stopped a Avada with an Expelliarmus.” James was wrong. Kingsley could appear more shocked.

“That’s impossible.”

“I saw it.”

Kingsley looked back at the broken boy on the floor. “Merlin’s beard.” 

“Come on, help me get him up. Lily?”

“The Phoenix Suite is ready for us,” she said. The nodded to Tom, who led her upstairs. With a tight hold on their son, she followed. 

Two men hooked an arm under the boy’s shoulders to heave him off the floor. He looked dazed and on the brink of passing out. James tried not to look at him. There was something haunting about his expression, something dark that shouldn’t be there on someone so young. 

Together they made it to the suite and Kingsley sent word to Dumbledore. The stranger took a chair across from Lily while she tried to calm Harry. The poor boy had just escaped death and was now being jostled left and right. James wished he could put his son in a crib and promise a million safe nights. Soon, he promised himself.

James couldn’t sit with so many nerves and settled for guarding the door, clutching his wand in his hand. He vowed never leave it anywhere again. If he did, he would be dead. It would’ve been so easy. He saw the possibility earlier that night. And Lily too. And Harry.

He forced a hand through his hair, trying to suppress the panic and anger threatening to rip him apart. Voldemort had been at his house. Right in front of him. And despite the fact that James had been completely powerless, the reason the bastard had been there was not something James wanted to think about.

Because it couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. If Voldemort had been there, then Peter… No. Something else had happened. There was something wrong but it wasn’t, it couldn’t be, it hadn’t been-

A flash of phoenix light brought the old headmaster into the room with such force, James had to shield his eyes. Harry began to cry in earnest now as Dumbledore surveyed the room. His eyes met James and seemed to know the strain of the last half hour.

“Professor?”

The voice was so quiet they almost didn’t hear it. They all turned to the stranger who had risen from his chair, a flicker of life finally appearing on his face. Dumbledore spun to the boy and the kid reached out, grasping his arm in a panic.

“Professor, he’s back!” he said in hurried voice. James jumped forward but Dumbledore held up his other hand, telling the others to stand down. He never took his eyes from the stranger. 

“He’s back! Wormtail was there. He t-took my blood. Some ritual. And Cedric-” Pain flashed through the boy’s face and he nearly collapsed. “Cedric’s dead. He’s- He must still be in the graveyard. I left him. I left him there.” 

His voice sounded so pained James turned away. He met Lily’s eyes across the room and felt the same remorse radiating from her. Who was this boy that had saved them? Where had he come from that he rushed right back into facing Voldemort?

“It’s alright son,” Dumbledore said, easing the stranger back into the chair. “Right now we must get you all back to safety. Right now, we must move.” He turned his gaze to James.

“Hogwarts?” Lily asked.

“Until we can set something else up, I think so.” Dumbledore sighed. “Kingsley, we’ll need a portkey.”

“Yes sir,” Shacklebolt said and began to search his robes.

“Professor?” the boy asked again. His gaze had wandered back to James and locked in on the man. James felt a shudder run through him. Something oddly familiar about this kid. “Are my parents really here or am I… am I mad?” That haunting look kept James glued in his place.

“I’m afraid, dear boy,” Dumbledore said, “that there are many questions that will need answering tonight. All in good time. Please, stay still.” He pulled out his wand and flicked it at the boy’s leg. There was a cracking sound and the boy flinched before his face relaxed. James hadn’t even noticed the broken leg.

Then the headmaster crossed over to James and his eyes were missing all of the mysterious sparkles that seemed to permanent during the school years. 

“Can I assume you have no idea who he is?” he asked in a low voice. 

James raised his eyebrows. “I thought you knew him,” he said. Lily had joined them and he let his arm find her waist. He didn’t want her anywhere else but next to him from now on. 

“So, apparently, does he.” There was amusement in that but it passed quickly. Then his eyes became hard.

“He disarmed Voldemort,” James said. He pulled the cold and evil wand from his robe pocket and held it out. “Saved our lives.” Lily gasped, eyes wide. Her arm gripped his tighter.

Dumbledore took the wand and studied with unreadable features. 

“What does it mean, Professor?” Lily asked.

The professor looked at her for several long moment, his thoughts hidden to them before looking down at baby Harry who was playing with his mother’s hair. The old man stroked the child’s head once and said, “I haven’t the faintest.”


	2. Chapter 2

Harry vaguely recalled getting back to Hogwarts. The portkey had that same pinching inside-out feeling that had brought him to the graveyard and suddenly the headmaster’s office was around him. He wasn’t sure how he stayed standing. His leg didn’t feel broken anymore but it still throbbed. The visions of his parents were still there, following him and talking like they were alive. 

He wondered briefly if he was dead but death couldn’t possibly hurt this much. His vision was blurry and everything ached. He made his way to one of the chairs and sank into it. He could sleep here, wait until parents to stop haunting him. Wait for the pain to go away. Or for death to come. Whatever came first.

Cedric’s face appeared in front of him with open, lifeless eyes and Harry jerked awake. No. No he couldn’t sleep here. Not with Cedric still out there. How could he leave him there, in that graveyard alone. He didn’t even know where they had been. The name Tom Riddle flashed through his head before the memory of the ritual. Questions echoed through his mind.

He pushed his fingers through his hair, feeling the dirt and dried blood. He tried to remember how he escaped but all he saw was Voldemort’s red eyes and Cedric’s face and he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

“Hey!”

He suddenly became aware someone was shaking him and he looked up, blinking. Green eyes that mirrored his own were filled with concern. 

“You’re safe now,” she said. Lily. His mother. She had the red hair he had seen only in pictures and that mirror in first year but it looked brighter than he’d ever seen it. Her voice was calm and smooth, nothing like the scream he used to hear in painful dreams. “It’s okay, we won’t hurt you.” 

How could she be here? How was she talking to him? He felt the warmth from her hand when she touched his face with a frown.

“You’re in spellshock,” she was saying. “You might have a concussion too. You can hear me right? Can you tell me your name?”

“Harry.”

She blinked at that, confusion coloring her concern. Then she smiled and it was the most brilliant thing Harry had ever seen. 

“Alright Harry. We’re going to take you to the hospital. Madam Pomfrey can help you feel better. You think you can walk?”

He didn’t want to. He never wanted to move again. He wanted to sink into the depths of the chair and wait for the world to finish doing whatever it needed to do so it never asked him for anything else. But that was never an option. Not for Harry Potter. So he nodded and felt a wave of dizziness come over him.

“Okay then,” she said and pulled at his arm gently to help him up. “Nice and easy. That’s it.”

He hadn’t meant to but he felt himself leaning into her and smelled the freshness of her. It seemed familiar but he knew he hadn’t smelled it before. After all, this wasn’t his mother. Maybe it was Ginny. Or Hermione? But the heights were wrong.

The halls were quiet. How long had passed since the tournament? Harry wondered where everyone was. Could the school have forgotten about him and Cedric and called it a night?

“Is Fleur safe?” he asked dumbly. “What about Krum? He was cursed. It wasn’t- It wasn’t him.”

The girl, his mother or this other person kept him walking for some time. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I wasn’t there, I don’t know what’s happened.”

At least she was honest. 

“Voldemort’s back,” he said. He needed someone to believe him. Dumbledore didn’t seem to. No one seemed to care. Harry’s head was spinning. Wasn’t Voldemort coming back a big deal? He had a body now. He was starting the war again.

“I know,” Lily said quietly. “You were brave, facing him alone.”

They were quiet the rest of the way to the hospital wing and Harry barely waited for Madam Pomfrey to greet them before collapsing into a bed. 

“What’s happened?” she was asking the red head.

“I can’t say anything,” Lily replied quietly like she didn’t want Harry to hear. “Please, Dumbledore wants him healed. We’ll need to question him as soon as possible.”

The nurse have a loud “hmph!” at the idea as her hands started peeling the robes off Harry with little help from the boy. “If you expect anything from this poor boy before morning, you are gravely mistaken.”

The girl gave a sad smile. “Of course Madam Pomfrey. But please. It’s important.”

Harry didn’t hear more. His vision had finally had enough and he fell back into the bed and into blackness.

**

“Any ideas?”

Lily looked up from the medical pamphlet she was distracting herself with to see her husband enter the school hospital. He looked exhausted but there was a strength in his shoulders that inspired her to keep going with this long ordeal.

She sighed, glancing back at the boy that lay in the bed. He was beaten and bandaged and barely fourteen by the look of it. And if she wanted to be completely honest? 

“He reminds me of you.”

“What?” He took a seat beside her, turning it around to hug the back of it.

“I’ve seen you in the hospital, James. It looks like that.” She nodded to the boy. His messy hair was everywhere and his pale skin was marked in purple and blue bruises. They had taken his dirty, bloody robes off. They were red and gold, Gryffindor colors with a Hogwarts emblem but nothing like the ones used currently. One of his arms was bandaged from a deep cut on his forearm and his leg was wrapped to keep the swelling down. There were bite marks from some past battle already healed and scars that told them he was used to violence. Nothing was worse than the scar on his forehead, though. That ugly, nasty scar that seemed agitated. How long had it been there? It looked old but it shouldn’t be acting up then.

“There’s no other Potters, Lil,” James said. “Maybe a distant cousin but why would they suddenly come and save us? How could he suddenly come and save us?”

“There’s Harry,” Lily said and risked a glance at her husband. He didn’t look completely following her train of thought. “Our son.”

“I know who Harry is,” James said. “What about him?”

“He said his name was Harry,” she said, looking back at the boy. James followed her gaze and she saw him tense.

“No.”

“James.”

“That’s crazy.”

She rolled her eyes. “James.”

“You can’t honestly believe that, Lily!” he yelled. He threw the chair forward where it clanked to the floor. His anger confused her. “Some stranger shows up and you think it’s our son? Harry’s one year old!”

“James, keep your voice down.” Lily sighed. “You asked if I had any ideas.”

“That’s your idea? Look at him, Lily, he could barely walk.” James seemed to deflate upon looking back at the stranger in the bed. His eyes scanned the injures until they rested on the boy’s face. It looked contorted in pain, even in sleep.

Lily stood and touched his arm gently. “Where is Harry?”

“Dumbledore transfigured a crib in his office. Fawkes sang him to sleep.” His shoulders seemed to relax while remembering his own son was safe and sleeping peacefully. 

“Oh great, we’ll never put him down alone now,” Lily joked hoping for a smile. She wasn’t disappointed. His lips tugged back and he turned, pulling her into his arms. 

“James,” she sighed into him, feeling him solid against her. “I thought... “ her voice broke suddenly and she was disappointed in her own weakness. Standing alone in that room while James face Voldemort alone downstairs was the longest moment of her life and she never, ever wanted to feel that pain again.

“Me too,” he said. She heard the strain. “I’m so sorry. I never thought he would-”

“Stop,” she said, squeezing him. She knew he didn’t want to think about Peter. She didn’t either. The truth was, Peter was either a spy or he was dead. And the only person who knew Peter was the Secret Keeper was Sirius. So one of the boys James thought of as a brother growing up could have just sentenced them to death. 

She didn’t have to think about what was the truth. She knew it was Peter. She had liked him but bravery during the war became harder to come by and she suspected Peter wanted little to do with the fighting years ago. 

She wasn’t been able to talk Sirius out of it. And James had been just as unsure but trusted both boys enough that Lily couldn’t find enough evidence. In the end, she thought she was being paranoid. Now, James was struggling with all the options. Going through the denial. But she was sure she had been right all along. Peter was scared. Peter ran. They found him. He gave them up to save himself.

“You didn’t have your wand,” James said. He pulled back and anger flashed through his eyes. 

“Neither did you,” Lily challenged.

“We were both stupid.” He sighed. Lily nodded in agreement. “If it wasn’t for-”

A scream put them on alert. Lily had her wand in her hand beside and then behind James as he pushed in front of her.

The boy was thrashing in his bed, grabbing his head with a bone-aching yell. When both Potters realized the threat was minimal, Lily moved from behind her protective husband and moved to the boy’s side.

“What the hell is his problem?” James asked as Lily tried to push the boy’s arms down.

“He saw someone die tonight, James,” Lily snapped, “he’s in trauma. Harry, honey, wake up. Harry, you’re safe. Harry!”

The boy gasped for breath as he blinked awake and Lily again was struck by how familiar those green eyes were. She knew them, could feel them in her soul. 

“M-Mum?” he rasped, his voice dry. Lily’s own voice caught. Her heart was breaking for this boy who could be her son.

“Out of my way Potter!” Pomfrey demanded, shoving James out of the way. She moved to push Lily too to get to her patient but the boy suddenly grabbed Lily’s wrists, keeping her locked at his side.

“Are you really here?” His eyes were pure pain and his voice broke, like he was pleading. “Am I dead? Are you dead?”

“Let go of her,” James said, wand out.

“Don’t you dare stun my patient!” Pomfrey yelled. She slapped the boy’s hands away like they were paper and Lily stumbled back into her husband’s arms. “All of you, whipping your wands out. He’s just a child. And you! I should’ve given this to you before.” She shoved a purple potion at him and he blinked at it in his confusion. “Don’t just stare at it, drink. It’s dreamless sleep potion. You’re obviously having night terrors.”

Lily hoped it was the late hour that was making the nurse so tense or, she suspected, it could be the appearance of her least favorite patient (a Mister James Potter), back at school after two years. 

Harry, not her son but could be, eyed the witch and then the potion. He seemed to be struggling with a lot more than deciding whether to drink it or not. Lily just wanted to help him. There were so many questions floating around him, from where he came from, where his parents were. Or if he was her son…. why was he here?

The doors to the hospital swung open.

“Prongs!”

Before Lily could even decide if this was a good place for reunion, Sirius was crossing to the floor and wrapping James into a hug so tight it looked like it hurt. James took a deep breath in obvious relief and the hug was considerably longer than either would admit later. Finally, James broke away.

“What are you doing here, Sirius?”

“I saw the house.” There was a dark expression on the young face that told Lily he had done more than visit the house. “What’s left of it, anyway.”

Lily gasped. “They didn’t-”

“I’m sorry Lily,” Sirius said and he swept her into a hug. She grunted at the force but felt better for it. Sirius Black hadn’t always been her favorite person but after years of friendship and a night of terror, she never wanted him to leave her sight again. After the night, it was evident who their real family was and she didn’t want any part of it away from her. “It was crawling with Death Eaters. They didn’t leave much.”

She felt the tears prickle her eyes and knew it was silly. Harry was safe and James was right besides her. Nothing else mattered. There was nothing in the house that couldn’t be replaced. But she still thought back at the place they had been just hours ago and pictured Death Eaters touching everything. She shuddered violently. Sirius put a hand on her shoulder.

“I saw Peter,” he said. She didn’t recognize his voice. It was so low and dangerous. Vicious. James was suddenly alert and on edge. “He tried to blame it on me. Thought you were dead. Blew up a street of muggles.”

“Not Peter-” Lily cried despite already accepting his betrayal. Cowardice, yes, she could accept that from Peter. But this… no, this was… 

“Almost got away with it if Shacklebolt hadn’t gotten me before the ministry.” The man looked more shaken than she had ever seen him. He had almost lost James, his brother in all sense but blood and because of his best friend’s betrayal.

But we’re alive, she reminded herself.

“I think our little animal trick is out of the bag if we don’t want me on trial for murder.” Sirius was staring at James, worried at the silence from his friend. Lily was worried too. 

“That’s the least of our worries, Padfoot,” James said, forcing some lightness into his voice. His skin was pale.

Pomfrey seemed to have had enough of their reunion and cleared her throat. “All of you out. This isn’t a common room!”

“Nice to see you too, Pompom,” Black shot back with a grin. Then he looked at James with narrowed eyes. “Why are you in the hospital wing. I heard you faced Snake-face and were in here but you look dashing as usual. I thought the worst.”

James rubbed his eyes in attempt not to roll them. “No, actually, our guest pummeled His Darkness into the lawn and chased him off.”

All three of them turned to the boy that was still sitting up and staring at them. For a moment, Lily felt embarrassed to have forgotten their savior but there was something different about his expression.

“Sirius,” Harry said. “You’re here.”

Sirius and James exchanged glances. “Do you know him?” James asked. 

“Do I look like I hang around third years?” he asked and leaned down as if to expect the boy closer for clues. “Who are you?”

“It’s me, Sirius,” the boy said, his eyebrows creased in worry and concern. “Harry. You’re… I’m… You’re my godfather.”

The silence filling the room could’ve been cast by Dumbledore himself, it was so powerful. That is, until Lily finally said, “I told you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposition and family bonding time. This is a long chapter but I couldn't see breaking it up.

“Alright, Harry,” Dumbledore said with a comforting twinkle in his eyes, “why don’t you tell us what happened?”

After a night of thankfully dark and dreamless rest and the health charms from Madam Pomfrey, Harry wasn’t nearly as dizzy or disorientated as he was the night before. Unfortunately, upon waking, he realized that everything before falling into that blackness had been real. The graveyard, his parents, all of it. Which meant something was definitely wrong. 

Hermione’s words echoed through his mind. “Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle in time, Harry.” 

But it was already too late. He stopped Voldemort from killing his parents. Stopped Voldemort from disappearing for the first time all together. Now Harry was… Just Harry. Not “The Boy Who Lived”. Just a boy with parents.

A soft hand brought him back to the room and Lily’s eyes smiled at him to reassure him. Right. Talking. He should start doing that.

“Professor,” he said, “I think I’m in the wrong time.”

James Potter snorted in the corner of the room. Harry didn’t dare look at his father. The man seemed the least interested in him. He’d vanished from the hospital soon after Sirius arrived and hadn’t returned until Dumbledore dragged him in. Even now he looked ready to bolt.

Dumbledore smiled gently at Harry but the gesture only reaffirmed the time theory for him. It was a kind gesture but not with the familiarity they had come to know. The Headmaster didn’t know him. 

“Yes, I think you are. But to fix it, we need to know how you came to be here.”

Harry nodded and tried to organize his thoughts. 

He started with the maze. With Fleur and Krum. It was the easiest place, back when everything still made sense. He was just a happenstance contestant in a crazy tournament competing against other kids. The Sphinx, the spiders. Cedric and the offer to share the cup and glory. If Cedric had just taken it himself, would any of this had happened? Harry wondered if they would’ve let Cedric go if he had taken the cup alone and left Harry. If Harry had just taken the cup, Cedric would be alive.

The graveyard. He didn’t know how he kept talking but it was pouring out of him now and he didn’t dare look at the others. Cedric falling lifeless to the ground with blank eyes. The headstone and Wormtail and the cauldron. He didn’t look up when mentioning the betraying friend but he heard a slight commotion around him. Harry rubbed his scar while he spoke about Voldemort climbing out of death on his own legs, in a new body. The taunts. The curses. Harry wouldn’t bow but he cowered behind the gravestone until deciding to greet death head on. Their wands connecting.

“And then,” Harry swallowed, trying not to think about how wet his face was or how dry his mouth felt, “we were in a house and he was looking at me surprised. And then he just vanished. I thought, I thought Dad was a hallucination.”

The room was silent for a long time as the adults took in his words.

“If he was returning,” James began in a question voice.

“What made Voldemort disappear in the first place?” Lily asked. Harry noted that no one in the room seemed to mind speaking his name. There was no fear in the name, just at the prospect of loved ones dying.

“He came to kill me when I was a baby,” Harry said. He risked glancing up but quickly ducked down again. “Or, uh, last night. He was supposed to kill you guys last night. Dad first, I guess. Mum, she bargained for me. She wouldn't give me to him. So he killed her too. He tried killing me next but the curse didn't work.” Harry rubbed his scar against the headache and the turning of his stomach. “It backfired or something, bounced back at him and he… I don’t remember. Just screaming and green light. Hagrid never explained it in detail.” He tried to swallow and finally brought his eyes back up. 

Lily was staring at him with her mouth open, fear and shock painted across her face but there was something else. Something Harry only imagined before. Love? 

James was gripping his wand so tight it looked like it could snap. There was fury and pain and vengeance but Harry couldn't feel it directed at himself. It wasn't like Uncle Vernon’s when his face turned purple. His father’s anger was simmering.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, running a hand through his hair. He let off a few more colorful curses that Harry was surprised to hear in a school.

“You’re Harry,” Lily said, coming closer. She took his hands as she bent down, staring into his eyes. There were tears but a confidence and strength that already helped calm him. “Our Harry.”

He could only nod under the intensity of her gaze and then he was pulled into her embrace. It was warm and strong and unlike anything he had felt before. This was his mother, his real mother. He could feel her skin, smell her hair and hear her outside his nightmares. She rubbed his back and he became aware he was shaking.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. It was his fault they were dead. Voldemort wanted him and they had given their life for him. And then he had been the one to bring Voldemort back in his time. It was his fault. All his fault.

“No,” she said fiercely, almost frighteningly. “This is not your fault.” She pulled back to face him. “I'm so proud of you. And I'm so sorry for everything that's happened, Harry.” 

“We're sure it's him,” James asked Dumbledore quietly. He looked pale and exhausted and suddenly younger than he had the night before. Even moments before.

“He's not lying,” Dumbledore said with conviction. “At least not about his identity. And I've no doubt where he's from.”

“But how?” Black asked. “And why? A spell Voldemort cast?”

“In a way,” Dumbledore said. He turned to the wand on the tray next to the hospital bed and picked it up examining it. “This is your wand, Harry?”

Harry nodded, watching the headmaster examine it. 

“Well, I am no wand expert. Certainly not Ollivander.” He pulled the pale wand from his robe and everyone in the room stiffened. “But from what Harry described, it sounds as if these wands connected. They are matched. Perhaps an identical core.”

“Pheonix feather,” Harry said. “Mr. Ollivander said the Voldemort had the brother feather.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Priori Incantatem.” 

“Say again?” Sirius asked. 

“Opposite spells cast at simultaneous times by matching wands. The wands connected and the spells from one wand, this wand,” Dumbledore held out Voldemort’s, “were revealed. A very rare magic. It's curious that they were also re-lived, bringing Mr. Potter to the scene of the spell, but very few encounters of Priori Incantatem have occurred ever. And I think Mr. Potter is proving to be an especially gifted wizard.”

All eyes rested on him and Harry shifted uneasy. “Not really,” he said, trying to smooth down his hair. “I don't even know much defense. I think it's all been luck, actually. Mostly bad.”

That got a laugh from Sirius and a smirk from James but Lily squeezed his hand. “You matched Voldemort’s power, Harry. That's impressive, not lucky.”

He felt his cheeks warm under the look his mother was giving him. Was that pride? This was so strange, having people around him like this. She was the only one acting like a parent but still, he focused on his hand in her’s and the comfort that came from it.

“Told you my son was going to be a natural,” James said with a grin. “Defeater of the Dark Lord. Moony’s going to faint.”

“But I'm not,” Harry said. “I'm not even The Boy Who Lived anymore.”

They all blinked at him and he felt that stupid shame fill his stomach again. “That's what they called me, after he disappeared and I survived,” he mumbled. “But I didn't do that,” he continued, looking at Dumbledore. “Not anymore. Voldemort’s not gone.”

“No,” Dumbledore said and it was clear he had been thinking the same thing. “Indeed, history has changed.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said, “I'm know messing with time is wrong. I didn't know I had. I'm still not completely sure I'm even awake.”

“It's alright, Harry, “ Dumbledore said. “The past is in the past.” There was a smile in his eyes.

Harry nodded and Lily gave his hand another squeeze. He looked at her and she smiled, reassuring him it was all alright. His mother telling him everything would be fine. Wasn't that what he always wanted? It made him wonder how sorry he really was for stopping Voldemort.

Not sorry at all, he thought. His parents didn't deserve to die. There could be another way. Just like with Sirius escaping the ministry in third year, there was another way here. 

What would Hermione say? Harry frowned, thinking of his best friends. Were they worried? Did they even notice he was gone? They weren't even born yet. Wait, yes they were. But they certainly didn’t know who he was. But in the future, they had to be worried about him. Or did they know him anymore if he never grew up to be who he was at that moment?

Time hurt his head.

“So we have to figure out how to defeat Voldemort in this time without dying,” Black was saying, “and send young Old Harry here back to the future.”

“I'm not sending my son back to face the Dark Lord on his own,” James said. “I don't care what circumstances surrounded it, he never should've been in that graveyard.” He glared at Dumbledore. 

“That’s why I said without dying, Prongs,” Sirius said. “So we'll be with him. Hey, why wasn’t I with you, Harry?” 

“You, uh, you're an escaped murderer,” Harry said and fought back a laugh at the faces around him. “Innocent, of course. Wormtail framed you.”

“That little…” Black’s words made Harry flinch and he noticed James did too. “I will murder him when I find him.” 

“You escaped Azkaban?” Lily asked. “That’s impressive.” 

“Professor Lupin isn't the spy,” Harry said, remembering the conversation in the Shrieking Shack now. “And he was really, really relieved to find out you were innocent.”

James ran both hands through his hair and sunk into a seat. He looked defeated and Lily rose to go to him. “We need to send word to Moony,” he said. “I’m such an arse.”

“This war has torn too many friendships apart,” she said quietly. She looked up at Dumbledore. “Are the Longbottoms still safe?”

Dumbledore nodded. “He hasn't gone after them yet. Their secret keeper has held true.” It was evident his words stung.

“The Longbottoms?” Harry asked. Neville’s parents? 

“I think,” Dumbledore said, “some breakfast is in order. I can't have you seen by the students but I can offer the staff room to you.”

Harry’s stomach rumbled at the thought of food. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten or what it’d even been. He stood slowly, testing his leg but there was nothing but a dull ache. He'd suffered far worse.

The corridors were clear and he wondered what time it was. It looked like morning, perhaps just after breakfast so the students were in classes. What day was it? He shook his head. It didn’t matter.

The staff room had been cleared from all professors for the secret guests and a spread was set on the table. Dumbledore left them to take care of school business and shut the door tightly. James and Sirius walked directly to the table without looking around and Harry suspected this wasn’t their first time in the room. He saw the wardrobe that would host a boggart in his third year and a smile tugged at his mouth. Hogwarts was safe. He was safe here. And with these people, his parents, he would be alright no matter how many Voldemorts there were in the world.

He sank in a cushioned chair and was aware that the staff room was a lot more comfortable than the Great Hall benches. 

“So Harry,” Lily said, sitting in a chair beside him, “where did you grow up if not with… if we weren’t there?” She tried to hide the sadness in her tone and smiled at him.

James filled a plate while Sirius tossed a scone down the table. It landed on Lily’s plate perfectly and another landed on Harry’s a second later. Harry looked up to see his godfather watching him closely and he wasn’t sure the look was suspicion or friendly mischief. 

“My Aunt and Uncle,” Harry said carefully.

Lily’s brows wrinkled in thought before she frowned. “Petunia?” Harry nodded and he heard James slam his fork down.

“Surely someone in the wizarding world took you!” he said. “Remus! Or Alice and Frank could’ve taken you in, I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded!”

Harry stared at his food while he filled his plate. “I never knew I was a wizard until I was eleven,” he said. “And Dumbledore said it was important-”

“What?” James was standing now. “They didn’t even tell you you were a wizard?”

Harry kept quiet, wishing he hadn’t answered at all. He didn’t need to upset them, to make them worry about him or feel obligated to take care of him. 

“James, I’m sure there was a lot of backlash by the Death Eaters and Harry needed protecting,” Lily tried to reason, though she looked like she was trying to convince herself. “It was smart to remove him from the world.”

“But for eleven years? They can’t have stayed active for that long.”

Lily pursed her lips and took a sip of her pumpkin juice. Harry risked looking up and found Sirius’ eyes still on him intensely. He hadn’t been scared of his godfather since third year and even then it was hidden under anger. Now, to think Sirius didn’t trust him or didn’t even like him felt to Harry like he had, well, brought the Dark Lord back to life.

He supposed he deserved that since he actually had brought back Voldemort. And gotten Cedric killed.

“Petunia didn’t even come to the wedding,” James grumbled. “How did you even manage to make it to Hogwarts?”

Harry knew to stay quiet now and shoved food into his mouth to hide his reluctance to say more. Suddenly food tasted bland and dry. 

“Harry.” Sirius’s voice cut through the room, making the boy look up. His blue eyes were intense. “The scar on your forehead, that’s from Voldemort.” Harry nodded. “And the one on your arm?”

Harry looked down at his arm where, under the borrowed robe, was a faded scar from when he was twelve.

“Basilisk,” he said quietly. “Second year.”

“And the one behind your ear?”

Harry pushed down his hair, trying to flatten it. The one behind his ear was from Aunt Petunia’s frying pan. He felt their eyes on him.

“Just clumsy,” he said.

James was looking at Sirius, puzzled and about to ask him about it when the staff door opened. 

“I was hoping to have more than two years freedom from you lot,” Professor McGonagall said with a sigh in her tone. She shut the door and waved her wand, presumably to cast a sealing spell. 

“Minnie, you missed us,” Sirius said, flashing a smile. 

She gave him a glare that would’ve had Harry running but then it settled as she took in the group. It seemed to hit how lucky they had all been the night before. “As it stands, I am very relieved to see you all.” Her voice was softer, her eyes kinder than Harry had ever seen them before. They found Harry’s. “And you are?”

“Harry, Professor,” he answered. “Harry Potter.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Well Mr. Potter, you’ve grown since I’ve seen you in the Headmaster’s office mere minutes ago.”

“I was hungry,” Harry responded. “I’m a growing boy.”

He heard a cough behind him as his father cleared his throat. “It’s complicated, Professor,” James said. 

“Indeed,” she said, amusement in her eyes. 

“Do we have a new plan?” Lily asked. “We can’t sneak around the castle forever.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sirius said.

“Albus has called an emergency meeting,” McGonagall said, seating herself at the head of the table. “We’re meeting in the Hog’s Head tonight.”

“Who?” Sirius asked. “We had a traitor in our midst, I don’t want anyone that’s not essential to be there.”

“We all regret Pettigrew,” McGonagall said. “Lupin, Moody, Shacklebolt and you four of course. That’s all I’ve heard so far.”

“They’re pulling Remus?” Lily asked. She looked worried.

“We can’t be sure how much Pettigrew has told them,” McGonagall said. “That includes Mr. Lupin’s involvement with the half-breeds.”

“Does the Order know we’re alive?” James asked. “Has any of it come out yet?”

Harry was listening intently in on the conversation, never imagining how deep his parents had been with the fight against Voldemort. And everyone seemed to be acting under the ministry’s nose. 

Professor McGonagall nodded and pulled a folded paper from under her arm. She set a copy of the Daily Prophet down on the table and everyone leaned over to read.

**SIRIUS BLACK, DARK LORD’S SECOND-IN-COMMAND**

_Another tragedy struck the magical community when a street full of muggles was blown up by Sirius Black, revealed supporter of You-Know-Who. He is now wanted for questioning for the murder of 18 muggles, the murder of Peter Pettigrew, a wizard who confronted Black and the disappearance of the Potter family._

_Black caused a commotion in a muggle neighborhood when confronted by Pettigrew that resulted in a devastating explosion. Multiple muggles were slain along with the wizard, whose only remains found were that of a finger. The confrontation started over the disappearance of the Potter family-_

 

James snatched the paper before Harry could read any more. The rims of his father’s glasses pressed into his cheeks as his nose wrinkled in anger and he looked like he was shaking. He let out a colorful curse Harry had never heard before, even from Ron.

“That bastard little-”

“I guess I’ll be borrowing your invisibility cloak for a bit,” Sirius said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. His tone was a practiced lightness but there was something dangerous in his look. The was beyond the school boy pranks, beyond a petty row between friends like the kind Harry had with Ron earlier that year. 

Like murder, Harry realized. 

Lily seemed to realize he was there suddenly and cast a glance at James. They seemed to communicate something Harry couldn’t guess. James balled the paper in a loud show and chucked it over his shoulder before sitting back down at the table. The conversation, it appeared, was over. Eating resumed in silence. Even McGonagall didn’t dare utter another comment about it.

Waiting for the meeting was unbearable. Dumbledore had a school to run which left Harry alone with the strangers that were his parents and godfather. He wasn't sure they completely trusted him and felt like he was being babysat in a school he knew too well. Kept in a room to be quiet until someone figured out what to do. It was the cupboard all over again.

Meeting his baby self was weird. It was like meeting a little brother that people kept calling by his name. There was no scar on his forehead and he smiled and giggled when the others picked him up and played with him. 

Harry felt like the broken reflection of this baby, like he had come from some dystopian future. Or an evil twin that wasn't supposed to exist. So he decided to keep out of the way until it was time to head to Hogsmeade.

Sirius kept watching him, too. He could feel his godfather’s eyes on him when everyone else in the room was occupied with the baby. Harry shifted in his chair uncomfortably, pretending to pick through an old textbook when he was really trying not to think about the night before.

“Does it still hurt?” he heard Sirius ask suddenly from beside him. Harry started, nearly toppling the book into the floor.

“What?” He asked, wondering what exactly wasn't supposed to hurt. Madam Pomfrey had done her job well but his body still felt sore. She said it was from the cruciatus curse and would be gone by the next day.

“Your scar,” Sirius said. He pulled up a chair and sat, illustrating that Harry was not getting out of the conversation. “You've been rubbing it for twenty minutes.” 

Harry removed his hand from his head, unaware of when he had moved it there. The throbbing and the headache behind it had been constant since first touching the cup. 

“It does that,” he said, thinking of nothing else to tell him. 

“How long have you been on your own?” Sirius asked. His eyes were drawn but not threatening. Serious.

“I'm not… What do you mean?” Harry asked, blinking. He tried not to be intimidated by the man he considered family, at least in his time, but this Sirius was intense. Like he was looking through Harry but without Dumbledore’s kind tone.

“Those scars you have aren’t normal, kid,” Sirius said. “The way you talk about them though, I bet you got them all alone. And not all at school. How many are from your uncle?”

Harry suddenly felt cold but couldn’t place why. 

Sirius seemed to know. “I know how families treat members they don’t want,” he said. He glanced back at Lily and James before continuing in a softer voice. “Your mom and dad have a lot to worry about right now, we all do, but I got a good look at you in the hospital. And like you said, I’m your godfather right? So I’m not doing my job very well if I’m letting you time-jump looking the way you do.”

His tone was so sincere and his gaze so intense Harry had to take a few moments to process what he said.

“It’s okay,” Harry said, trying his voice. “It’s only for the summers and there’s a lot to worry about. I don’t need… You don’t need to worry about me, Sirius.”

“You’re not an obligation, Harry,” his godfather said. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“What’s this about obligations?” James asked, leaning against the back of the chair. He looked from Harry to Sirius with confusion behind his glasses.

“I was asking Harry about his classes,” Sirius said casually. 

“Right.” James frowned and Harry wondered if he could tell when his best friend was lying. After a long moment he seemed to will himself to look at Harry. “Well, how are they?”

“Fine,” Harry said, unsure how to answer.

“What year are you in?”

“Fourth?”

“Really?” James said. “Could’ve sworn you looked younger. Were we that small in fourth year?”

“Were we ever that small?” Sirius asked with a laugh.

“How did they let you in that tournament if you’re only fourteen?” James asked. “Are they really that daft to let fourth years compete in a Tri-Wizard Cup? Someone’s died in that.”

They did again, Harry thought before he could shake the darkness out of his mind. 

“And I thought there were only supposed to be three champions,” Sirius said, now onto the same line of questioning. “But you named off three, didn’t you? Flower, Crums and Sea Drift. So with you, it’d be four.”

“Someone put my name in,” Harry said. “Confunded the cup or something. Everyone was really angry.”

“I bet,” Sirius said with a grin. “Sounds like something we’d do, doesn’t it James? You sure it wasn’t you looking for glory?”

Harry scoffed, irritated at familiar reaction. But then James reached down and ruffled his hair. It was such an uncommon gesture, it actually pulled Harry from his anger and he looked up to see his father smiling at him for the first time.

“Nah, he’s got more Lily in him than that,” James said. “Look at him, he’s a puppy.”

Sirius barked out a laugh as the irritation returned to Harry and he grumbled, “I’m not a puppy.”

“I’m sure he gets in plenty of trouble if he’s fought a basilisk. In second year, no less.”

“That was easy compared to the dementors,” Harry muttered. 

“Yeah?” Sirius asked but James’ frown had returned.

“Why have you faced dementors?”

Sirius snorted. “They kid fights a monstrous snake that can petrify people and you’re asking about that?”

“They were at Hogwarts looking for Sirius,” Harry said, trying to prevent another argument. “Apparently they liked me.”

It was Sirius’ turn to look unhappy. “I should never have been convicted,” he said in a dark tone.

“How?” James asked.

“What?”

“How did you fight them?”

“Oh.” Harry closed the book that had weighed down his lap long enough and shifted to better face his father. “Professor Lupin taught me the Patronus charm.”

“Professor Lupin?” James tried not to smile but was failing. “You can cast a Patronus?”

Harry nodded. 

“Show me.”

Harry looked from his dad to Sirius, who shrugged, and then back to his father. “Now?”

James gestured to the room. “Why not? We’ve got nothing else to do. Show me what you can do. I’d like to see what Old Man Moony taught you.”

Harry stood and pulled his wand from his robe pocket. James stepped aside next to Sirius and Lily looked over from where she built cloud castles with baby Harry on the floor.

Happy memory, Harry thought. A happy memory. Cedric’s face and Voldemort’s eyes flashed in his vision and he winced. No, definitely not happy. What was happy? A warm bed and his friends. Hermione and Ron, their faces flashed in his mind, smiling and cheering for him. They’d be cheering for him now, if they could. He had it.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A brilliant light escaped the end of Harry’s wand, filling the space until a silver stag stood in the room. Harry watched it walk a few paces, its head pointed at him and he felt at ease for the first time what felt like days. Somehow, it felt like things would be okay. He knew it was the charm but it felt more powerful here. The first time Harry had conjured it, Sirius had been dying and Harry thought it was his own father that saved them. Even that memory, though it was wrong and painful, filled him with emotion. Maybe not happy, but powerful all the same.

The the stag turned to where Lily and the baby sat. It bowed to the smaller boy and the little one gazed at it in awe. Harry realized the room was completely silent and began to feel his hands shake. He pulled the stag back and it vanished in a sparkling array of light.

He shifted uncomfortably as everyone stared at him.

“Prongs,” Sirius said and then a barking laugh erupted from him and he sank into a chair. “I’ll be damned.”

Lily stood, staring at her son. “You can make a corporeal Patronus?” she asked. “That’s… incredible.”

“He learned it from Moony,” James said but his voice still sounded in shock. Slowly, he looked back at Harry, as if seeing him for the first time. His eyes seemed to look over every inch of him slowly. 

Harry turned away, rubbing his forehead from the new and intense headache. He didn’t want to feel analyzed, not by this person that didn’t feel like his father. Not that Harry had much experience on the matter. Still, after the tournament, he’d had enough of stares.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all Remus.

Remus was not nervous. Every Order meeting had caused some form of nerves to flare within him whenever he attended. New information was a double-edged blade in this war and Remus had grown accustomed to dreading the flurry of anticipation and anxiety. 

Not this time, though. The Daily Prophet had roused him from his morning routine with all the information he needed to be prepared for the later owl that alerted him to the meeting.

**Sirius Black, Dark Lord’s Second-In-Command**

And so, he knew. The Potters were dead. The paper reported it as “unconfirmed” but with Sirius as Secret Keeper and the spy the Order had feared, he knew they were gone.

He wanted to be angry, wanted to rage and lash out, feel anything other than this emptiness. But that’s all he felt - loss and pain. Lily’s kind smile would never be seen again and no one would hear James’ infectious laugh. He couldn’t imagine returning to the Order and not hearing about Harry’s newest word or plans for after the war. They were always making plans. They had to visit the coast in the summer to show Harry the ocean.

Harry… The boy that hadn’t had a chance to live yet. That poor child had damned his family and barely had a life to lose. He would never tug on Remus’ hair again with a giggle. Or spit-up in his tea. Remus held back a sob as he remembered how the baby made ridiculous faces to get him to smile.

Remus wanted to hate Sirius for those memories but he couldn’t. He couldn’t see past the part where his friends were dead and he hadn’t been there for them. Peter was dead too, the paper said that. Sirius Black, Second to the Dark Lord, had murdered him and blown up a muggle street. 

Sirius must have finally gone mad, Remus thought. It was the only way he could think to justify this. Madness. His cousin was insane, wasn’t she? The one that married LeStrange. It was all the inbreeding and Dark Artifacts kept in the confines of the households. Sirius fought throughout school to keep a level head but maybe the war pushed him too far. Too much violence, too much darkness and suddenly a friend was an enemy. And psychotic. 

And when it came out that Lily and James were targets, the pressure on Sirius increased. Remus remembered those days when it looked like he hadn’t slept and would show up with dark circles under his eyes matching his unwashed hair. Surely it was just a snap judgement by the paper. Sirius wasn’t a spy, just… just lost. 

But.

He was a Black. He was one of the highest in the Order. And he had blown up a street of muggles after killing three of his closest friends. Madness or loss of will didn’t account for tracking Peter down and killing him too. That was deliberate.

Remus tried not to be sick but he sunk to his knees in front of the toilet and heaved. 

Words so innocently said in the past came back in a new darkness, reflected in betrayal. When did it happened? The Order asked Sirius to lean on his brother, Regulus. Maybe the Death Eaters leaned back.

Or was it at school, after their fight about Snape? That was his first betrayal. In time they forgave him and he had shown new maturity but was that when they lost his trust and respect? 

Remus pulled himself to the sink. The water ran too warm to be much comfort and after throwing it onto his face a few times he turned off the faucet. The towel was dirty and stained in blood but he reached for it anyway. 

The Potters were dead. His friends were dead. Sirius was a traitor. Remus was alone. He wasn’t nervous about the meeting. There wasn’t much he could feel anymore.

He exited the small bathroom and moved back into the hallway where the lights flicked. The electricity was spotty at best so someone had lined the way with floating lights but they did little against the darkness. The day was overcast and the heavy drapes that lined the outer windows kept most of the light out of the run-down mansion the pack had taken over. Everything smelled of wet dog.

The mansion the pack was settled in sat on a vast estate of land. Remus tried looking up the history but figured the family must’ve been magical because the house had yet to be reclaimed by any authority. The house could use work but it was better than the woods. Half the pack didn’t seem to mind the forest floor but a few held onto as much humanity as possible. 

He needed out. Not just to get to the meeting but to properly plan. He was responsible for the funerals, after all. He doubted Petunia would have any interest in Lily’s. Remus flinched. Did Peter’s mother know?

As he made his way back down to the lower levels of the house where the other pack members lounged, Remus Lupin made a mental checklist but couldn’t get past “date and flowers”.

No lillies. He’d have to make that clear somehow. Lily didn’t want lilies. A smile pulled at his lips as he remembered how she threatened anyone that mentioned them at her wedding. Sure enough, half way through the reception her bouquet had mysteriously been transfigured into lilies. He still thought it was James’s doing but no one had ever fessed up to it. Lily was too drunk to properly take vengeance by then anyway. 

“Are you leaving, Mr. Lupin?” 

A young girl stood in the doorway of his room, staring up at him with innocent eyes. Ula’s hair was cut short and jagged, her clothes just the rags she’d arrived in weeks ago but she still held a smile. He tried to return her kind gaze but doubted his success.

“Yes,” he answered, “for a few days on business. I should be back before the full moon.” 

She nodded and pulled at the rope tying her pants around her waist. “Are you in trouble?” She asked.

Remus frowned. “Why would you say that?” He asked. Then he picked up the snapping twigs outside coming from the woods. Ula did too, her head snapped up and her eyes were wide.

“They were asking about you,” she whispered. 

“Who?” Remus asked, focusing on the girl in front of him. She stood suddenly still, looking off towards the window where the sky met the trees. She should’ve been at Hogwarts, gaining an education. 

She shook her head. “A-accalia,” she said. “And some Others.” She said it like a curse word and Remus understood. Not Their Kind.

“What did they say?” Remus asked. She didn’t answer and Remus bit back the urge to curse, a bad habit he’d picked up from Sirius. Instead, he kneeled to look Ula in the eyes. “This is important, why are they looking for me?”

For a moment, the fear in Ula’s eyes eclipsed everything else. Then it cleared and she took on an edge he’d seen only at the beginnings of a full moon. “They said you weren’t what you claimed to be,” she said. “That you betrayed the pack.”

His cover was blown. Sirius must’ve alerted Voldemort to his missions and the Death Eaters alerted the pack. Accalia’s influence could sway half the country’s packs. And if she learned of Remus’s spying…

He did curse this time, unable to stop himself. Ula didn’t flinch.

“Is it true?” She asked. “Is that the business you’re taking care of? Selling out your own kind?” Emotions flashed through her eyes. Hurt, anger, fear. Ula spent only three moons with the pack but Remus knew it only took one to solidify the connection. To run with a pack during a transformation was unlike anything he’d experienced before. 

“No,” Remus said. “I’m not betraying you or the pack. But there are bad people that want to use us.”

“Luuuuuuuuupin.” His name was drawn out like a note in a song. It sent a shiver up his spine as Remus stood. 

Fenris Greyback traipsed up the drive, arms outstretched with a wide smile. Remus could see him from the window, far enough away to spot the large figure. His hair was long and his coat tattered but he wore it over a bare chest out of obligation. Remus only knew Greyback by name from the stories that whispered around the various British packs and the rare picture the Order secured months ago. He looked better suited for the Forbidden Forest than the Scottish countryside, abandoned or not. 

Two dark-cloaked wizards backed him. Remus recognized them as two of the scouts of the pack, the ones that sought protective shelters during the full moon and removed potential dangers before the change. They were shaggy and wild, far closer to the beasts than the man Remus struggled to keep hold of inside himself. 

“Bring me Remus Lupin,” Fenris snarled out, his pointed teeth catching the light from the setting sun.

Remus tensed, his senses sharpening as Ula squeaked and ran from the room. The wind picked up and blew the scents of his opponents towards him through the broken panes of the window. Suddenly, the world stopped.

Remus Lupin was five, in his bedroom, staring wide-eyed at the shadow beyond his window. He knew that scent. 

“No,” he heard himself say. 

He could hear their heavy boots on the gravel as they approached the house, smell their odor on the breeze. Finally, he shook himself to his senses. He had a job to do and he was damned sure to be the last of the Marauders.

He pulled out his wand, ready to flee. No wards meant it was easy to disapparate and he had planned an escape route for this purpose.

“Reeeeeemus,” Greyback called out, much closer now.

Remus backed into the hall, out of sight from the others. He heard them start to wake all over the house, they’d be looking for him now. He held his wand tight as he disapparated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James needs to come to terms his son is here. (Mentions of child abuse. I also fully support the idea that the Marauders would make as many Star Wars references as possible.)

James watched as his son mumble about using the bathroom and walk out the room, hands shoved deep in his pockets. 

His son. He was starting to accept it now. Seeing the stag, his very own stag, coming from the boy’s wand…

Harry. His name was Harry. And he was his son. James looked over at where the toddler was clapping at the clouds from Lily’s wand, smiling up at his mother. His heart swelled at the sight. That was everything he ever wanted, everything he didn’t know he could ever want. Lily and Harry.

But this other Harry, this older Harry? He was scared and scarred and came from a world James couldn’t imagine. It robbed the warmth from him like a dementor. He would fail his son and this living, breathing, future Harry was proof.

James fell back into a chair and took off his glasses. Messy hair fell into his eyes but he hardly noticed. He was too busy combing his mind trying to figure out how the terrible night happened.

Remus wasn’t the spy. He had been loyal to them this whole time and neither James nor Sirius had trusted him. Voldemort was promising better positions for werewolves and Remus would always be on the outskirts of society, no matter what his friends said or believed. They all knew Moony’s pain was deep, something they couldn’t touch or heal, no matter how many nights they spent with him. James was a son of fortune and Sirius had his own way of dealing with pain. In the end, they simply didn’t know if they had done enough for their friend. 

He had always hoped his mistrust was unfounded, and knew that Sirius was fueling most of the second-thoughts. Maybe it was the Black in him but Padfoot was becoming paranoid. Or maybe it was the pressure to protect his friend. After that stupid prophecy, everything had gone to hell. If James ever got his hands on whoever leaked the tale to the Dark Lord, the fates would not be kind.

But Peter. Knowing the whole story of the muggle-slaughter made James sick. It wasn’t just cowardice, it was darkness. They would’ve protected him, shielded him or used Sirius if Peter was so worried. But no, he was spying for Voldemort. Their friendship of ten years meant nothing. Less than nothing. Peter didn’t care. Peter might even hate them.

“Prongs,” Sirius said with a strong hand on his shoulder, “you’re going to make yourself blind.”

James sighed and stopped rubbing his eyes. “I did this to us,” James said. “And I’m not sure how to get out of it.”

Sirius was frowning when James replaced his glasses. “Guilt isn’t going to do anyone any good,” he said with a set jaw. “If I could redo it, I would. Maybe that’s what Harry’s given us. A second chance to do it right.”

“He still suffered,” James said, looking at the door his son exited. “We thought we knew the risks but to actually see the results reminds me we’re fighting for Harry’s generation. This isn’t our war. It’s theirs.”

“Don’t sound so noble,” Sirius said. “It’s not like you. We’re fighting this war, living in this hell. Might as well make it about us.”

Leave it to Sirius to bring it back to the present. James was sure his friend was feeling the pressure of the future with Older Harry lurking around but wasn’t about to let it cramp his self-preserving style. 

“How’s Lily?” Sirius asked with a smooth change of subject. “She looks stressed.”

“I wonder why,” James grumbled. “You didn’t see her last night, Pads, when I went to get her after it was safe. She threw herself in front of Harry. She knew she was going to die. I can’t get it out of my head. That look.”

“Lily’s always been passionate,” Sirius said. “And she’d do anything for the pup. Can’t say I’m surprised so why are you?”

James shook his head, trying to explain the emotion of seeing your wife ready to forfeit her life. He didn’t think he could find those words. 

“Maybe it’s just my own stress,” he said instead. “My son has to come from the future to save my arse from Darth Vader.” 

“Ah, the pride,” his friend hummed. “The sting. I know it. I feel it too just now. How the cool kids have fallen.”

“You were never the cool kids,” Lily said, walking up with Harry - the baby one - on her hip.

Sirius scoffed. “We ruled the school. Everyone wished they were us.”

“No,” Lily said. “You spent your time making ridiculously detailed maps and pranking people. Kings in your own minds, maybe, but you four rivaled Ravenclaw in nerdiness.”

“I think your wife just offended me,” Sirius said.

James bent to kiss Harry on the head before capturing Lily’s lips. He lingered there to feel her warmth and pull strength from her presence. 

“Where’s Harry?” Lily asked. James looked down. She rolled her eyes and huffed. “The other Harry. Older Harry.”

“I think James scared him off to the loo,” Sirius said. “Bit delicate, aren’t you Prongs?”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass him,” James said. “And he shouldn’t be. A corporeal Patronus at fourteen is impressive. Fighting off Voldemort at fourteen is impressive.”

Sirius waved a hand. “Yes, yes, your offspring is very impressive.” 

“I wish there was more we could do,” Lily said. “He looks so sad. And lonely. We’re strangers to him here. I’m sure he misses his friends and family back home.”

“I doubt that,” Sirius said. James didn’t like that look. 

“What do you mean?”

James caught the flash in the mutt’s eyes but Sirius just said, “Nothing, forget it.”

“No,” James said, turning to him. “What did he say?”

Sirius sighed, looking from James to Lily. She looked as anxious as he did. “He didn’t have to. With you both gone and his godfather, or me rather, in jail, I’m fairly certain his relatives haven’t taken kindly to him.”

“Petunia and I had our differences,” Lily said, “but she wouldn’t harm a child.” She looked at James as if asking for backup and looked paler than he’d seen her since the house.

“He didn’t say anything to you?” James asked instead. He wanted to make sure this was just Sirius projecting his own awful family life onto his son. He couldn’t take anymore awful news today. 

“He’s being mistreated at home, James. Kids don’t come out and say that. But he did say it was only summer holidays.”

“How do you know?” Lily demanded.

Something in her tone, the accusation, brought a scowl to Sirius’s face. “Ask him yourself. But don’t be surprised if he avoids answering.”

Lily looked about to ask again but James shook his head. Sirius knew more about it than either of them. And Petunia had made Lily’s life hell. He rubbed her arm with his thumb. 

Lily suddenly turned, pulling baby Harry into a tight hug that had him squirming against her. “Mamaaaaa,” he whined until she let him go. He sank to the floor and shot off across the room to the pillows.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Sirius said.

“No, thank you,” James said. “I haven’t… I haven’t been much of a father to him.”

“Our house did just get attacked by the most delusional and darkest wizard of our time,” Lily said and he was grateful for her forgiveness and defense. “I think you’re allowed to be out of sorts for a day.”

“Not when it comes to family.”

She gave him a small smile and took his hand. “Make it up to him, then.”

“How?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, Potter.”

She gave him a sly smile and he kissed her gently before settling his head on her shoulder, smelling her hair. His eyes rested across the room on the blanket and pillows that made a makeshift playpen for his son. Yes, he had thought of something.

He kissed her again, on the cheek, and pulled his invisibility cloak from his pocket. He’d plucked it from Dumbledore’s office when lock-up became evident and he was even more thankful for it.

Lily rolled her eyes as she watched him slip out the door. He waited in the hallway, trying to suppress the all the memories. They were good times in the school, with his roommates and friends. But it felt colder than his days as a student, like a shade had been cast over the castle. Or maybe it was knowing all those memories were tainted with Peter’s betrayal.

How could Peter have been through seven years with them and not thought they’d protect him? How could he have known the boy seven years and never see his real heart?

The memories distracted him to Harry passing and he almost missed seizing the boy’s arm. A spell flew past him and down the empty hallway as Harry backed away, his eyes searching for an attacker.

“It’s just me,” James said, pushing the cloak from his head. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Harry held his wand to him for a few seconds longer before lowering it. He looked from James’s floating head to the invisible body and James smiled.

“Invisibility cloak,” he said. 

“I know,” Harry said and his lips tugged at an uncommon smile. He met his father’s eyes and seemed to think over an explanation. “It really was yours?”

James cocked an eyebrow as a grin grew. “You use my invisibility cloak?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said. “And the map. The Marauder's Map. That was yours too?”

James’s face lit up as he remembered the folded parchment and the adventures attached to it. “You’ve got the map?”

“I gave it to Professor Moody during the tournament,” Harry said. “Sirius and Professor Lupin said the four of you made it.”

“Moody?!” James laughed, the sound echoing down the hallway. “Moody became a professor? I’d die to see that.” He laughed again, unaware of the flinch his son gave. “I still can’t get over this ‘Professor Lupin’ business, and now Moody. Did everyone teach here?”

Harry shrugged. “Supposedly the position’s cursed.”

“DADA? Yeah, that was the rumor since fourth year when Professor Biggs died the summer before and we didn’t have the same teacher after.”

“Dumbledore got desperate I suppose,” Harry said. He looked back down the hall as he heard footsteps. 

James turned too. Damn, classes would be changing soon. The appeal of being locked back in the staffroom had dwindled significantly, especially since his son now seemed to be opening up. He still looked tired, but he was obviously more comfortable in the school. 

“Do you like Quidditch?” James asked, thinking of his scheme.

Harry’s head whipped back around to look at him. There was a spark in his eye James hadn’t seen before. He nodded.

“You play?” James asked.

“Seeker,” Harry said and his shoulders seemed to relax as a smile plagued his face. “Since first year.”

“No way,” James said. “No one makes team first year!”

Harry grinned. Actually grinned and James saw the pride in it. This, this was something his son loved and was proud of. James pushed a hand through his hair.

“Youngest in a century,” Harry muttered, like he wasn’t used to bragging.

James clapped a hand on his shoulder and lead them to one of the many great passageways that provided many an escape for his group of friends.

James grinned. “Come on,” he said and pulled his hood up. 

“Where are we going?” Harry asked as the doors began to open. Soon the students would be filling the halls.

“I wanna see my son fly,” James said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there's one thing Harry is confident in, it's his flying.

The fresh air in the late November afternoon felt like a splash of cold water against Harry’s face. Seeing the quidditch field standing tall and empty without a maze and champion colors brought the comfort back to his bones. He knew quidditch. This, he could do.

Part of him felt guilty. The graveyard held him back like a chain around his ankles making every step forward a conscious effort. He chose not to fight his way back to recover Cedric. Thinking of flying felt like a betrayal to the other seeker especially when his murderer still walked free. 

And yet.

His father walked in front of him with an ease Harry wished to have. James, too, lived in a world full of darkness but the man didn’t pause when passing through the gates. He pulled two brooms from the broom closet and handed one to Harry with a light touch. He didn’t look so old anymore. His face was too smooth, his hair too wild to be concerned with parenting. James reminded Harry more like a seventh year than a father. It was a strange thing to think he was only a handful of years older than Harry himself.

James lost a friend last night. Maybe not his own life, but a close friend to darkness and betrayal. Still, he smiled.

This is what pushed Harry forward onto the field with the November chill. Those chains grounding him to the past couldn’t stop him from mounting his broom and rising into the sky.

The brooms were older than he was used to. Even the standard school models Hogwarts used now, or rather later, could fly circles around these. Harry ran his hand over the wood, wondering when the last time it had a proper polish.

“It’s no gryffin,” James said, kicking off the ground with a quaffle tucked under his arm. “But they’ll do. Believe it or not, these have been replaced fairly recently.”

“Gryffin,” Harry said, recalling his broom knowledge. He remembered reading about a major broom industry race around this time when new yearly models started becoming standard. And Hermione said Harry was wasting his time. “Has the Phoenix come out yet?”

James flashed a grin. “Yeah. It’s wicked fast too. You know it?”

“Read about it,” Harry said. “Comets are the most popular where I’m from.” Harry wondered how to phrase that better but James didn’t seem to care.

“Is that what you have?”

Harry tried not boast but thinking of his broom made him smile. “No, I have a firebolt. Fastest in the world.”

James’s eyes sparked under his glasses. “Yeah?”

“Sirius bought it for me,” he said. “Helped me fight a dragon.”

“I knew he’d spoil you.” James shook his head and flew the perimeter of the field. Harry followed. “Your godfather has no concept of money.” He tossed the quaffle to Harry in a long, easy throw.

Harry wanted to point out that it was James and Lily that left him a vault full of gold while his godfather was on the run in South America with parrots but no good would come of it.

“He’s the best family I have,” Harry said, thinking back to his help in the tournament. He tossed the ball back, less precisely as James but his father caught it with a quick dive. When he righted himself, though, he had a sour expression on his face and Harry felt he said the wrong thing.

“Your aunt and uncle, how are they?” James didn’t look at him. Instead, he spun the quaffle between his hands.

Harry hovered on his broom, waiting to catch it. “They’re good,” he said. “I suppose. Healthy.”

James threw the ball. “No, I mean how do you like living with them?”

Harry tossed it back. “Fine, I guess.”

James caught it. Instead of throwing it, he looked up. “You ever play chaser?”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve done the drills in practice but never in a game.” 

James grinned with the same look Harry saw when Fred and George schemed. He tossed Harry the ball but instead of waiting for it, flew backwards in a defensive position.

“Think you could score on your old man?” 

They played like school mates. Harry felt more at home on the quidditch field than anywhere else and flying against his father came as naturally as practice with his House team. James had moves. He was swift, especially on the older brooms, and had a very showy style that Harry could see a crowd loving. 

Harry liked being more direct with his movements. It took time getting used to the wider turns and he was pretty sure his broom had the odd habit of sinking when he hovered but he surprised James a few times. When he did, the older man would laugh, his eyes wide in joy and clap his hands. At one point he asked Harry to show him a spin move and nearly fell to the ground.

“Cheeky,” he said when Harry laughed. “Not all of us grew up with those fancy sweepers.”

“I’ll tell mum to buy you an upgrade,” Harry said before thinking. 

James grinned at him. “Please do. She’d never listen to me but I’m sure you could convince her.”

This was strange. All of this felt like a lie and yet Harry could reach out and touch his father if he wanted to. Playing quidditch with his dad was something Harry hadn’t even considered before. Watching him, knowing him, having him watch Harry - those were all things Harry had dreamed about. But not together. Never interacting like this. 

It was nice. And nice was not something Harry Potter was used to.

Pain shot through his head. One moment he was watching his father try the roll move and the next white hot pain pierced his skull. His vision went black as the pain built and he felt like he was going to split open.

Then, it cleared. The manor was dark with the setting sun but he didn’t need light to see the form before him. Long black robes couldn’t conceal the pale complexion and red eyes. It was like looking at a reflection but his reflection hadn’t see him yet.

How wonderful it would’ve been, to have all this before. And now a second chance to succeed where he had failed so many years ago. Revenge and success, together in a beautiful package.

He could barely contain the joy from it all. But first, he had loose ends to trim. He stepped forward into the house where his reflection, his past self, resided in humiliation. How much better he now was. How much he had learned, yearned for this day. Even himself would not stand in his way.

Red eyes turned to him. Surprise and disbelief were easy to read. Such a weaker version of himself. And wandless, too. The pain would be nothing to the success it guaranteed. 

“Avada Kedavra!”

**

It was boring waiting around for time to turn. Sirius Black didn’t appreciate waiting and he didn’t appreciate small spaces. From the times he was confined to his room for weeks at a time to the detentions spent in a single seat - “yes, Black, that seat, without even a thought of moving from it” - Sirius had muscles that craved to be stretched as soon as he was told not to move.

“Just go after them already,” Lily said. She gave him a knowing look over the side of a pillow. Her hair spilled over onto the blanket where Harry played with a stuffed dragon. Sirius had no idea where it’d come from. He suspected Minnie was spoiling the tot.

As much as Sirius was eager to jump from the chair and race out of the room, he sat next to the two of them instead. Long legs folded under him in protest of yet more solitude.

“James deserves time with him,” he said. “I’d much rather catch up with you.”

“Liar.” Lily pushed herself onto her elbows and looked at Sirius over her shoulder. “But appreciated.”

Harry made beast noises as he held the dragon high in the air and swung it down to knock the pillow-fort down. He giggled at the soft destruction.

“How are you doing?” Sirius asked.

Lily steadied a gaze at him. “James talked to you, didn’t he?”

Sirius feigned ignorance. “Your husband? I barely know the guy.” She swatted at him with false bravado. “Maybe a little.”

“I’m fine,” she said, watching her child play safely. “Honestly, it’s nice being in action again.”

“Mumhood’s exciting. Many battles to fight.” Sirius plucked the dragon from the pillow house’s destruction and Harry immediately started fussing. Sirius flew the dragon this way and that to avoid Harry’s hands. Harry jumped, hitting Sirius arm in the struggle. The dragon fell but Harry caught it with a victorious giggle. “See? Titillating.” 

“I question your language around my son,” Lily said but she was smiling. “Being a mother isn’t the issue. It’s having so much to lose.” 

Her face was soft when watching Harry. That kind of softness hid the true fierceness contained within her. Sirius always marvelled at that. The way Lily could be so gentle and strong at once.

It was a strange thing to realize but Sirius felt the same about loss. All his life at Hogwarts was about burning bridges and destroying family ties. But he knew what she meant, this idea of sacrifice for love. He’d do it for James, for Lily. For Harry. They’d become his family, before he’d realized he had one.

He’d jump in front of Voldemort for these people, without question. What worried him was the idea of being the only one left. If she and James sacrificed themselves for him, what would he do?

“I’m worried about Remus,” Lily said. The change of subject wasn’t unexpected but a little off-putting. 

“He’s a big boy,” Sirius said, fighting back his own guilt. “We’ll see him tonight and all will be square.”

Lily nodded but the troubled look didn’t disappear. 

“With Peter still out there,” she said, “we don’t know what’s been leaked to the Death Eaters.”

Sirius wanted to tell her that Peter had as much knowledge of Remus’s whereabouts as the rest of them, that Peter was the least used Order member because he was always too nervous and jumpy on missions, that Peter was as good a spy as he was a quidditch player. But the truth was, Sirius didn’t know Peter anymore. And Peter had a way of being in a room without people really seeing him. Peter was that person you found yourself talking to without really knowing why. He was a people-person. A coward but a friend.

“We’ll see him tonight,” was all Sirius said.

Lily looked wanting to say more but the door to the room burst open. Both she and Sirius shot to their feet, wands drawn but there was nothing in the doorway. 

James pulled the hood from his head and the invisibility cloak fell from his body. He had Harry hanging from his shoulder for support and the boy looked pale and sickly.

“He’s had a fit,” he said.

“I’m fine,” Harry said sliding into a chair. “It was just a dream.”

Lily went to her son while James resealed the room. “What happened?” she demanded in her don’t-give-me-bollocks voice. Her hands cradled Harry’s face while she looked for injuries.

“We were flying when he passed out,” James said. He looked at Sirius for some explanation but Sirius shrugged. Sounded weird to him too.

“Flying?” Lily shot James a look. “He’s injured, James! And we’re in hiding. You can’t just go play quidditch!”

James huffed. “You told me to be fatherly,” he said. “What’s more fatherly than quidditch?”

“Drinking and cursing,” Sirius suggested. Both Potters scowled at him.

“Really, I’m fine,” Harry protested. “I was only lightheaded.”

He was lying but Sirius could see Lily fighting to believe it. The kid looked to be gaining color back and it was clear they weren’t going to get anything more out of him. Plus, all the injuries he sustained were bound to have some impact on him.

Still, Sirius didn’t like it. 

“What was the dream?” Sirius asked. The others looked at him in confusion. “You said it was just a dream.”

Harry shrugged. “Voldemort. He killed someone. Or… someone killed himself. It was strange.”

“Strange to dream when you pass out,” Lily said. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Dream of Voldemort?” Harry seemed to ponder the question. “Sometimes. I met him first year when he was sorta my professor.” He laughed at their expressions. “Well, he was connected to one of my professors. It’s hard to explain. But yes, sometimes I have dreams of running late to his class.”

“Did everyone teach you at Hogwarts?” James asked. Despite his light-hearted words, he still held a worried expression. It didn’t suit him. 

“It’s almost time for the meeting,” Lily said, checking the time. “Maybe you should stay here and rest.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m alright.”

James looked at Sirius. He didn’t need to voice his question. Sirius shrugged. “The Order might need to see it to believe it,” he said. “If the kid says he’s alright, we should trust him. He fought the Dark Lord, after all.”

“Remus might like to see him,” James suggested.

Lily scowled. “I hate you two ganging up on me,” she said.

“He’s right, Mum,” Harry said. “I want to help.”

Finally, Lily sighed. “Too much like your father,” she mumbled.

Sirius had to laugh at that. If anyone was going to force themselves into a meeting, it’d be Lily. James would play sick and sneak in. 

“Alright Champ,” Sirius said, throwing his arm around Harry. “Stay close. Moody gets awfully himself at these surprise get-togethers.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting time. Remus meets Harry. (Thank you so much for your support of this fic. Being new to sharing, it means a lot! <3)

Remus only spent a few seconds at Godric’s Hollow before traveling to Hogsmeade and found no comfort in the familiar places. He pulled his hood down. He was happy to be away from the forests and packs but he didn’t want to be around anyone just now. 

Without the Potters, he was just a tool. A half-breed the Order could use to see what the other Half-Breeds were talking about. The other side wasn’t offering much more. The Death Eaters weren’t talking about rights or any real power. But they were appealing to the wolves with talks of power and Remus couldn’t blame those that thought of joining. Being a guard dog with food and a house over your head was better than begging on the street. 

He knew the long-term unemployment records and was awaiting that fate himself. In fact, the sooner the war ended, the sooner he’d face the prejudice, low-paying job market. He was ashamed of how many nights he was glad he didn’t have to just yet.

Familiar and unfamiliar scents assaulted him as the door swung open. The barkeep nodded his head at Remus as he passed, heading straight to the back staircase. He’d have to wait to get pissed until the meeting was over. 

He took the stairs slowly, not wanting to hear what was coming. The Potters were dead. James and Lily and Harry. And Peter. Sirius was a traitor. The train of thought circled his mind over and over. The Potters were dead.

He raised his wand and waved the proper incantation automatically, his body carrying him through the threshold into the meeting room. At least he was there. No one would doubt his resolve. 

He was struck by the sudden hush that came over the room when he entered and he lifted his eyes. A million thoughts hit him at once for a second and then left him. Remus blinked.

The first person he could recognize and process was Lily. Her red hair and bright smile was there and she was looking at him, alive. And next to her was James and Sirius.

_**Sirius Black, Dark Lord’s Second-In-Command**_

“Good to see you, Moony,” James said and Remus heard the nerves in his voice but couldn’t think of why they were there. Why he was there at all. He was dead.

“I’m not subscribing to the Daily Prophet anymore,” Remus heard himself mumble.

His vision was obscured by that red hair as Lily pulled him into a bone-breaking hug. 

“I’m so sorry we couldn’t tell you earlier,” she said and he felt her tears in his hair and on his cheek. She lowered her voice to a whispered breath. “Peter was our secret-keeper.”

The realization shook him and Lily held him through the shudder. Peter. 

Wait, Peter?

His eyes focused in on James, who still looked nervous, like he was waiting for Remus to yell. The same look he had after he didn’t reveal a prank until it was too later. 

They changed Secret Keepers. And they hadn’t told Remus. 

Because they didn’t trust him.

They thought Remus was the spy.

The series of thoughts ricocheted across his mind and bounced back again like spells unable to find something to enchant. 

They changed secret keepers.

“Oh,” he said. Lily squeezed him again before pulling away. She gave him a sad look, remorse in her eyes.

“How’s Harry?” Remus asked as he struggled to identify what he was feeling. His eyes briefly drifted to James and Sirius before returning to Lily.

“Which one?” Sirius asked and James elbowed him with a glare. Strange. 

“Baby Harry is safe,” Lily said and Remus raised eyebrows at the identifier. “He’s asleep in the castle.”

“Remus,” James said, his eyes not quite meeting the werewolf’s, “it is good to see you.”

Seeing his friend alive and well after spending a day thinking otherwise melted his resolve and Remus felt the tension in his shoulders fade. 

“I can honestly say, Prongs, that the feeling is mutual.” He embraced his friend happily. 

After a moment, Sirius cleared his throat. “So, I hope you’ve used that brain to realize I’m not a backstabbing Dark Arts-loving Death Eater, then?” 

Remus shifted uncomfortably. “I realize that now, yes.”

It was clear it wasn’t the same as it had been. They were all guilty of mistrust but not of the proper party and they were all feeling the guilt of it. Their group was broken. Remus could see the cracks between his friends and himself as clearly as the scars on his body. How, then, could they survive this war?

“Losing you all,” Remus said, to break the silence before the meeting cemented the wedge between them, “has been the worst thing that has happened to me.” And he meant it, even as he counted the days to the full moon.

He heard Lily sniffle as both his childhood friends faces fell to sadness which he imagined mirrored his own. But he didn’t regret saying it. They knew how he felt and he was glad to have the anger dispelled and the pain tamed. 

“We have someone you should meet,” Lily said, wiping her eyes after a moment. “Well, he’s already met you.”

“Yeah, Professor,” Black said with a new grin. “We owe this reunion to tonight’s special guest.”

Remus cocked his head to the side in confusion. There was no new scents in the air, all members he knew. Sirius, James, Lily and Harry. Then there was Shacklebolt and Aberforth. They were discussing something in the corner in quiet whispers. McGonagall and Dumbledore’s scents were faint, they probably hadn’t arrived yet. Moody was also absent. But no foreign smells.

“Harry,” Lily said, turning to a boy sitting in the corner. He looked up and she gestured him over. He stood, pushing his hands deep into his pockets. 

“Remus,” she said with a soft smile. “This is Harry.”

The boy looked at him with those same emerald eyes Remus first saw over a year ago from a screaming baby. A scar ran down his forehead in a jagged line like a lightning bolt and his hair matched James in mess, if a little longer.

“I don’t understand,” Remus said.

“He showed up when Voldemort came to the house,” James said. “He saved our lives.”

“He’s from the future,” Sirius added, helpfully.

Remus looked down at this boy that was obviously Harry Potter, grown and healthy, though pale and in need of comfort and his heart tugged. Harry.

“Yes, I believe we have met before,” Remus said, offering a smile. He set a hand on the boy’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “At least, I hope we have in the future.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said and he looked relieved. “You were my favorite professor.”

“Was I?” Remus hadn’t dared dream of becoming a professor, let alone teaching his friend’s son and it brought him hope for the future. Perhaps he could speak to Dumbledore about the position, after the war. 

“You taught him the patronus charm,” James said with a proud grin. “It’s corporal. We’ve seen it.”

“Guess what it is, Moony,” Sirius sung. 

The boy shifted uncomfortably. 

“What exactly sent you back, Harry?” Remus asked instead of indulging his friends. 

That got him another silence and the boy stiffened.

“It’s a little complicated,” he said. “I’m not sure I could explain it.”

“It seems you’ve all been acquainted,” Dumbledore said as he strolled into the room with Mad Eye and McGonagall. “Moody, this is Harry.”

The auror grunted in Harry’s direction as his magical eye scoured every part of the boy and made his way to his seat. Harry quickly resumed his own in the corner, trying to keep as out of the way and out of sight as possible.

The others were forced to do the same and with a quick glance at his friends, Remus sat next to Sirius to listen in on a meeting he now knew nothing about. 

“Let’s get this started,” Moody said with his usual gruff. “Pettigrew’s betrayed us. He sold the Potters to the Dark Lord and tried to frame Black for murder.” No one said anything and it seemed to be common knowledge to everyone in the room, even Harry. “We don’t know what he’s told them so we’re going back through all the meetings he’s attended. But we’re treating everything as exposed. Lupin, that means you’re out.”

Remus nodded as the auror gave him a hard stare. “Greyback came for me,” he said. “I don’t know how he knew which pack I was in.”

“We can assume it was Pettigrew,” Moody said. “I think we can count the Half-Breeds out.”

But even Peter wouldn’t have known Remus’s location. The Order hadn’t - Remus moved within the packs based on his own need and observation. He learned long ago not to bother informing the Order on the specifics because they didn’t understand how they moved, why, when. 

It ate at him, how Greyback knew exactly where to come for him. Maybe Peter signalled when to strike, but Greyback knew his location almost immediately. 

“Obviously we’ll have to rethink some of our plans,” Dumbledore said in a light tone. “But we have more information now than even Voldemort knows.” His eyes drifted to Harry.

Harry frowned. “Sir,” he said, drawing the eyes of the rest of the room, “I don’t know anything else. Voldemort hasn’t disappeared, my parents are alive and you know Wormtail is the spy. I’m not even sure why he was after me in the first place.” It seemed to pain him to say it. “I’m not sure anything I know would matter now.”

Wormtail? The use of his ex-friend’s nickname was a strange occurrence from his friend’s son. 

“On the contrary, Harry,” Dumbledore said, “you’ve informed us of much-needed information. Killing Voldemort isn’t as simple as a well-placed spell. He can be brought back to life.”

There was a murmur at that and McGonagall gave a sharp frown at the information. Remus, too, was confused by the declaration. 

“Mr. Potter comes from a time period where the Potters did not survive last night’s attack,” Dumbledore continued. “All except Mr. Harry himself. Voldemort disappeared when his killing curse failed to kill him and was only seen thirteen years later when a blood ritual was used to reattach his soul to a new body.”

“How is that possible?” Minerva asked with a gasp.

Remus looked from his friends, who seemed to be well-aware of this information to the boy who seemed to be the most important person at the meeting. He wasn’t meeting anyone’s gaze, instead rubbing the scar on his forehead with a deep-set frown. 

“That, Minerva, is the question.” Mad Eye made a gruff noise.

“So now that we know we can’t actually kill him,” Mad Eye said, “we need to change our strategy.”

“We can’t just let him keep terrorizing the world,” Lily said.

“Imprisonment,” Shacklebolt said. “We didn’t murder Grindelwald, we shouldn’t just be looking to kill the Dark Lord. Defeat doesn’t mean death.”

It was a true sentiment but if Voldemort could come back to life then what would stop him from escaping a prison? Remus tried not to think about the moral implications about killing a mass-murderer. 

“And if he can’t actually die, why is he so concerned about the prophecy?” James said. “Why come after Harry or Neville in the first place?”

“Because he’s a paranoid git,” Sirius said. “And your son’s already kicked his arse twice.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Remus heard him mumble “or more” under his breath.

“We have no intention of allowing him to continue,” Dumbledore said, “just as we’ve always fought to stop him. But now we know the direction in which to continue our opposition.” One of his hands sank into his robes and came out with wand that was not his own. 

“That isn’t-” Minerva gasped.

“It is,” Dumbledore said, placing the wand in the middle of the table. “Voldemort’s wand. Disarmed by our Mr. Potter last night.”

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Moody said, his magical eye scanning the wand and then the boy again. 

“He’ll get another wand,” Remus pointed out. He was impressed, of course, that someone so young could do what no other wizard could. 

“We’ll send someone to guard Ollivander just in case,” Moody said. “But more than likely he’ll take a wand from a follower or victim.”

“What about Harry?” Lily asked. “We all know how Voldemort feels about losing. He’s going to want the person who disarmed him. Especially if he learns it’s one of the boys from the prophecy.”

“Might make good bait,” Moody said. “Spread the story, draw him out-”

“You’re joking,” James said, his tone hard. “That’s my son you’re talking about.”

Remus practically smelled Moody doubling down on his plan. “I’m sorry Potter,” he said mockingly, “did you want to fight this war or run from it?”

It was Lily’s turn to argue. “He’s just a kid,” she said.

“And the only one that’s got a chance at surprising the Dark Lord.” Moody looked over at Harry who had leaned forward to listen. “You’re not from here, he doesn’t know you and you’ve already defeated him once.”

Harry looked like he wanted to argue for himself but Remus couldn’t pull fear from him. No quick eye movements, twitching fingers or fast heart beats. No, Harry was eerily steady while listening to this insane plan of Moody’s.

“I’ll do it,” he said in eerily steady resolve.

James slammed his fist on the table. “No.”

Dumbledore waved his hands, casting a silence for several seconds. James used it as an opportunity to mouth several obscene phrases in Moody’s direction but when it lifted, he stayed quiet in his seat with his arms crossed.

“Harry is not the only insight we have into Voldemort’s plan,” he said. “We’ve added a recent recruit with very high interests to see him fall.”

“Someone in his inner circle?” Lily asked.

Dumbledore’s expression revealed nothing. “They’re working for the other side, close enough to alert us if something like the attack on the Potters were to happen again.”

“Sounds like another spy to me,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair. “Let Harry tell us how to kill this bastard and let’s call this club closed.”

“We need help, Sirius,” Remus said. “Harry can’t fight this war for us, we’ll need as much information as we can get.”

The hatred in Sirius’s eyes was not aimed at Remus but he could feel it all the same. That hurt and pain practically radiated from his tensed muscles and clenched fists. Peter’s betrayal would take a very long time to get over. 

But it wasn’t something to argue about. Sirius, for all his passion, knew enough about fights to know when to change directions. He leaned forward again.

“Alright,” he said. “So what’s our next-” he was cut off by a loud explosion that rocked the room. 

The windows burst before reversing midair and rebuilt themselves with the strength of the protection spell but the heat from the street could still be felt on the back of Remus’ neck. 

Remus was on his feet and through the door first thanks to his quick reflexes. His wand in hand, he came into the bar to see the street outside burning. Another explosion shook the ground and Remus was out the door, straining to hear.

Figures in black cloaks were flying in and a man flew through a window from a building three doors down. Remus stunned a figure to his left quickly and scanned the area trying to assess the situation.

A bolt of red flew past him hitting another man in black. Remus turned to see that Harry had followed him out. Screams echoed through the air and then a blast struck the upper level of the Hog’s Head, much more powerful than the last. The windows exploded where the meeting had just been held and Remus felt for the second time in 24 hours like his heart had stopped. Flames licked down the walls, traveling to the streets too quickly to be natural.

Harry turned, his eyes catching the light and Remus saw the panic in them. A shadow flew from the flames landing in the street above them, wand in one hand and dragging a body in the other.

“Call the Dark Lord!” the masked man yelled in a low voice that carried over the screams. He held the wand high in the air. “We have victory over the Order!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order scrambles after a massive attack. Lily Potter realizes to win this war, sacrifices are needed.

The first thing Lily did was grab for her wand. The second was to reach for her husband. The third had her eyes looking for her son. All of this happened nearly instantly as the windows began repairing themselves under the protection spell set on the room. Her hand grasped the wooden rod as her other hand brushed James’s shirt. Harry disappeared out the door after Remus, the tail of his cloak barely a flicker before it disappeared.

She turned to James and read his eyes. He was formulating a plan, listing everything they needed to do. Get to Harry - baby Harry - in the castle. Get to the castle. Get to Hogwarts.

Moody was casting another seal on the room when the door opened again. James pushed Lily down and the black robed figure went down with several spells to the chest.

“Minerva,” Dumbledore said in a commanding voice. “Return to the castle. Shacklebolt and Moody will-”

“Incoming,” Moody said and Lily turned to shield James against the blast as the back wall exploded into wood chips.

A dark force flew into the room and another blast shook the inn. Lily heard the walls crack and Sirius swearing before everything erupted into flames. She felt heat and looked up to find everything burning.

James pushed himself up, the back of his robe on fire. Lily cast a spell to put it out as she choked on the flames. The heat was blinding and it felt stifling. It was all too much - too hot, too cramped, too fast.

“Lily!” James held her arm as a shield came down around them. The oxygen was still too thin but it was better. She took a breath and calmed.

“I’m okay,” she said, nodding. She felt something dripping down the side of her face and hoped it was sweat. Flames already engulfed most of the room. McGonagall and Dumbledore were gone but Shacklebolt pushed pieces of the table from him. He coughed from the smoke.

“Moody?” Lily asked, squinting through the heavy haze of heat between them. Shacklebolt shook his head only once. Moody hadn’t made it. “Sirius?”

“Captured, I think.”

“We need a door,” James choked out, still backed into the corner of the room where the flames felt intense.

Lily pointed at the far wall where ceiling collapsed and the lumber exploded outward. Together, they jumped down to the street.

The village was in chaos. Screams echoed down the stone roads as buildings exploded into flames. Dark streaks flew across the sky as Death Eaters entered the area and let out a barrage of spells.

One stood in the middle of the street, holding Sirius by the collar. He looked shaken, his eyes glossed from a curse.

James immediately cast a spell towards the dark fighter as Shacklebolt conjured a shield. Lily disarmed two opponents charging from above and searched the shadows for her son. She spotted the tell-tale spell-casting of Remus and with a few more seconds of looking, saw them both in a corner closer to the opening to the square.

“Seven o’clock,” Lily said.

“Give me a moment,” Kingsley said as he battled two fighters. She helped take on one so he could get the other.

“Not without Sirius,” James hissed under the strain of battle. He held a stream between his wand and the Death Eater, trying to push his spell into hitting.

“Then win already,” Lily said, blocking two spells from her own Death Eater. It was easier to be bossy than be worried. 

“Yes ma’am,” James said. He dropped to on knee and let his spell fail so the enemy’s red bolt sailed over his shoulder. He cast another and it struck the Death Eater in the torso. The man screamed in pain and James darted forward to his friend.

“Get ready to move,” Lily told Shacklebolt.

“We could clear them out together if you’d like.” He cast a simple shield to hold for one spell and conjured a charge. Lily immediately added her own power to it and sent it out. The magical bomb exploded as it reached the death eaters, engulfing them in purple flames.

She turned back and saw James had Sirius over his shoulder and running forward. She dropped behind to cover their rear as Kingsley lead the charge towards Remus and Harry. Most of the village residents were fleeing and the death eaters followed for game. Screams echoed through the sounds of burning wood and magical destruction.

Other dark cloaks flew in and out of the fire’s smoke too quickly before Lily could decide an action. She retreated, blocking spells and casting curses at those that attacked. In these types of battles, sometimes the only thing to do was keep moving and hope for cover.

A chill ran down her spine. It was the only warning Lily got. A spell struck from her blind side and she tasted dirt as she slid across the road. Sharp fingers clutched her shoulder and pulled her up not to her feet but into the air. The nails pressed into her skin even through her clothes. The pain sent a hiss through her lips.

Pale skin and red eyes. Lily had met this sight before. She wasn’t afraid of Lord Voldemort. His eyes pierced hers as he glared in hatred. Still, there was something different about this meeting. He looked just as sickly and snake-like as before. But there was something more about him this time. Something Lily couldn’t begin to imagine.

“Potter,” he said with his harsh voice. It rang through her head like a migraine. “Where is Harry Potter?”

Harry? Lily panicked, her senses flaring in instinct to protect her son. No, he couldn’t have him, couldn’t get him. Harry wasn’t here, he was safe at the castle. And as long as he was at Hogwarts, Voldemort couldn’t get him.

“Not the infant,” he hissed and pushed Lily back harder against the cold brick of a building. “The boy! The reason I’m here.” He smiled and his eyes seemed to glow. Lily suddenly became too aware of what was happening.

_No_ , she thought, _don’t think._ Don’t think of anything. The Order heard rumors of this power of Voldemort's. This ability. Dumbledore described it once to them, teaching basic technique to beat it but there was never enough time for real practice. 

She felt him slither into her thoughts, pulling at them even as she screamed at herself to think of anything else. Don’t think of Harry, the boy that arrived last night bloody and bruised. Don’t think about his wounds, his scar, how he looked too much like James. She fought against the memories of the hospital room, sitting by his side all night to watch him sleep. She felt Voldemort see the meeting only minutes before. He knew her son was here, just feet away.

She would not let him have her son.

She swung her fist up, hitting the smile off the snake’s face. She felt the presence inside her mind disappear but saw his other hand raise, wand securely in hand. Worth it, she decided.

A blast hit Voldemort from behind, forcing him to drop her. She hit the ground hard, still disoriented and saw another barrage of spells thrown at the Dark Lord. She scrambled to her feet.

James grabbed her arm and she felt a pinching sensation. When it vanished, he pulled her close and she kissed him deeply. His warmth fought back the disgust and his strong hands grounded her. She was safe again. Away from Voldemort. With her husband.

Someone cleared their throat behind them.

“There are children here,” Sirius said.

James gave him the bird even as Lily pulled away, feeling her cheeks burn. She saw now where they were. In the wind, the boards to the houses still groaned. The Shrieking Shack. 

Sirius looked better, grinning from his place next to Harry. Remus looked through the slats nailed to the windows, no doubt wondering if they’d been followed yet.

“Smart,” Lily said. “But they’ll find us eventually.” After all, Peter knew about this place too. And the entrance to Hogwarts where her child was.

“Where’s Kingsley?” she asked.

“Alerting other order members,” Remus said. “He’s hoping to get to them before the Death Eaters. Obviously everyone is compromised faster than we imagined.”

“We should get going,” James said, pulling Lily by the hand towards the floorboards that housed the passageway.

“Wait,” she said. Her words felt heavy even as she let them go. “We can’t go back to Hogwarts.”

“What?”

Lily looked at Harry, the boy she had betrayed. “He’s looking for Harry.”

“Why?” Sirius said. His hand took Harry’s shoulder like he’d hold the boy back from Voldemort himself. It felt good to see.

Lily shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know how he even knows you’re here, Harry.”

“Not our son but-” James seemed looked at the boy, “our… son?”

“Not your infant,” Remus corrected. James nodded.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Lily said.

“It’s not him,” Harry said. He looked like he was very far away, his eyes seeing something no one else could. He rubbed his scar and the expression only read fear. “It can’t be.”

Remus gently turned Harry to him. “Can’t be who, Harry?”

“Voldemort,” he said.

James exchanged a look with Sirius but Lily shared the same thought. That hadn’t been the question - of course it was Voldemort. Lily literally felt the man in her thoughts. She shuddered and James rubbed her back in comfort.

“My Voldemort,” Harry said.

Remus was quiet for a moment. “There are two of you,” he said.

“I’m confused,” Sirius said.

“That makes two of us,” said James.

Remus waved his hands as if it would help him explain. “Harry in here,” he said, pointing to Harry, “and also there.” He pointed to the wall where if there were a window, Hogwarts would be. “Suffice to say, Voldemort is here, and also here.”

There was a long pause while everyone took in his words.

“Merlin’s hairy balls,” Sirius said.

“Shit,” said James.

“Language,” said Lily, though she thought the exact same thing. This was not good. Two Dark Lords meant…. What /did/ that mean?

“No,” Harry said. “I think, I think he killed the other one. I think mine,” he flinched saying “mine”, like claiming the dark lord was a curse, “I think he killed his past self.”

“How delightfully self-destructive,” Sirius said. “Saves us some work.”

“We need to go somewhere to discuss this further,” Remus said. “If what Lily says is true, returning to Hogwarts would put a target on it.”

James squeezed Lily’s hand and she met his eyes. His eyes asked what he didn’t dare verbalize. They were leaving their son, their infant son, in the hands of Dumbledore. Possibly not even Dumbledore. 

Her heart hurt at the ache. All she wanted to do was run through the tunnel and cradle him. James and the boys could handle everything while she rocked her child to sleep. It would be simple.

But even as she thought it, she knew it wouldn’t be right. She needed to make sure James made it out alive. She needed to finish this war so her son could grow up in a better world. She needed to take care of her older son. She needed to finish this.

She nodded to James. He looked pained only for a moment before his featured steeled themselves. There it was, that strength again.

“Peter knows all of our hideouts,” James said. 

“And our lives,” Remus said. “He knows the first place we would run to off the order’s list.”

Sirius swore again.

They all racked their brains, trying to think of some place safe enough Peter wouldn’t have told the Dark Lord about. Lily contemplated going home, to Petunia, but she knew she wouldn’t be welcomed. She also didn’t want to risk their safety even despite their differences.

“I know where we can go,” Harry said. 

Lily looked at James who looked at Sirius who looked back at Remus who shrugged.

“Worth a shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience and support! I finished uploading all of the draft I wrote years ago so I wanted to plan out more chapters before posting anything. With the holidays, it's been very busy as well. 
> 
> NEXT TIME: Harry brings his family to a place from his past to escape the wizards hunting them and learns he may have more information about Voldemort than he realized.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and the Marauders make for a safe house and try to come up with a plan.

The old shack of a house was just as Harry remembered it. The wizards had no problem crossing the water to the island where the tiny house sat and the looks on all their faces told them it was just as strange a location to them as it had been to Harry all those years ago.

The wood was water-worn in patches where the shiny protective sealant rubbed off. The paint may have been brighter but it was also a sunnier day than the last time Harry visited. He wondered how the house had stayed in such a condition, untouched by time.

“How is it you know this place?” Sirius asked, kicking up dust as he crossed the floor. Remus drew the curtains closed and coughed at an escaping cloud.

“My uncle brought us here,” Harry said, looking around as he recalled that fateful night. He smiled at the doorway a giant would eventually break down on accident. “He didn’t want to receive any post.”

“Muggles,” James said as he beat a place clean on the couch and fell into it. He rubbed his forehead free of wrinkles as Lily charmed the doorways.

Harry sat on the floor next to him where, in ten years, he would celebrate his eleventh birthday. He could still trace the cake in the dust and the wish made. Strange he hadn’t thought of this place before now. Between learning who he really was and everything that followed, this was the very last place of his life before magic.

“Hm?” James messed Harry’s hair. “Hullo?”

“What?” Harry asked, looking up. He realized his father had asked him something and was waiting for an answer.

James looked tired from the day on the run. It had been a round of aparating, broom riding and various modes of transportation to keep out of sight from both muggles and wizards. The marauders all looked exhausted but unlike Sirius whose sarcasm became sharper, James looked amused. 

“Why are you smiling?” James asked.

Harry shrugged, too tired to care about the ridiculousness of the story. “This is where I met Hagrid,” he said. 

The others looked excited by the mention of the man and Harry was reminded that they were his friends too.

“He broke down the door,” he explained. “Middle of the night.”

“Sounds like Hagrid,” Sirius said. “Always a gentle touch.”

“Sweet man,” Lily said. Her looked saddened. “I hope he knows we’re ok.”

“Suppose that makes sense,” Lupin mused, leaning against the couch. “Sirius in jail and I, well. Hagrid would be the best choice for caretaker.”

“Don’t say that,” James said. “Harry should’ve gone to you, plain and simple. You’re more family than Petunia.” 

His aunt’s name sounded like a curse in his father’s mouth. Harry wondered what it would’ve been like, growing up with Professor Lupin instead of his aunt and uncle. All he pictured was the worn clothing and the perpetually tired look. He decided he didn’t want to add to that trouble.

“This isn’t the time,” Lily said quietly, a warning in her voice. 

“I’ll make us something to eat” Lupin said. He pulled Sirius to the kitchen to conjure up something like a meal while James leaned back and closed his eyes with a sigh. Lily rubbed his shoulders a bit before catching Harry’s eye. She tilted her head towards the doorway to the bedroom.

Harry followed her over while the madness of a kitchen argument began to brew. Something about magical fire and dog hair. He preferred to focus on his mum.

“I wanted to ask you, Harry,” Lily said gently in a low voice. She closed the door almost completely so that the noises of the outer room were muffled but not completely lost. 

“What is it?” he asked. He didn’t like the worry in her eyes. He saw her suddenly as a young woman instead of his mother. She was a soldier, a mother to an toddler, ready to fight to the death even as she had so much life. Everything she was, Harry realized, would be ruined because of him. Her fire, her spirit. Even now he was breaking her down, dulling her color.

“How did you know which Voldemort that was?”

It took moment to realign his thoughts back to the battle and the Dark Lord in order to understand what she was talking about. Still, he wasn’t quite sure what she was asking.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I just knew.”

Lily crossed the room to sit on the bed and motioned for Harry to join her. He perched on the edge, still too aware of being close to her and what the absence of it meant all his life.

“He has a skill,” Lily began, “a kind of mind reading. It’s called legilimency. I’ve never encountered it before until today. Well, yesterday.”

“Mind reading?” Harry asked.

“It was like he could see my thoughts,” she said. She was staring off into the memory of it, being attacked and trying to fight back. She shuddered. “I’m the reason he’s after you.”

“I brought him back,” Harry said. “He’s after me because I killed him before.” He thought about the Professor Quirrel and the stone and then the chamber with Ginny. The graveyard had been Tom Riddle’s revenge and Harry had ruined it by sending them back in time.

“You didn’t kill him,” Lily said. “Dumbledore said his spirit was still here, just his body was destroyed.” She shook her head. “But that’s besides the point. What I want to know is how you know he came back.”

Harry wished Hermione were the one his mother were talking to about all this. Or maybe that he was talking to all this with Hermione and not his mother. It was easier telling Hermione “I just do” but saying that to his mother didn’t seem like a choice.

“I can…” Harry thought about why he knew Voldemort - the one from his time - was the one calling the shots now. “I can feel him,” he said. 

Lily watched him carefully. “Like when your scar hurts?” she asked.

Harry stopped rubbing it, unaware he was doing so until she pointed it out. “Yes. No. Sometimes.” He stood and sighed feeling like an idiot. “It hurts when he’s around, I think. But it’s been hurting more since the graveyard.”

Lily nodded as if it all made sense. “I wonder if it’s because he’s actually alive now. Both in your time and in this time. I mean, the last time you met him, you were a baby. And then you brought him back to life with your blood-” she stopped talking.

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry said, frowning at the idea it had been **his** ceremony. But Lily wasn’t listening to him anymore and instead she walked from the room. He followed, unsure what else to do.

“Remus,” she said, interrupting the battle in the kitchen. Lupin turned towards her, dropping his shield which allowed Sirius’s cutlery through. Knives, forks and spoons pierced the wall, barely dodged by all involved.

“Whoops, didn’t see you there, Red,” Sirius called from the other side of the stove. “Just setting the table.”

Lily looked nonplussed by all of this. “You know about blood bonds, don’t you?” she asked Remus. 

“I’ve come across it with lycanthropy,” he said. “Why?”

Lily looked uneasy, glancing at James who was now rising from the couch and looking over the back at them with exhaustion. 

“Would one of the participants know where the other is?” she asked. “A… deeper bond between the two?”

“Is this a sex thing?” Sirius asked. “Are you pregnant again, Prongs?”

“It’s not me,” James said. “Could be Lily’s, though.”

Remus and Lily ignored them and Harry got the impression most of their conversations were like this. 

“Wizards involved in blood magic or some sort of blood bond don’t usually have that powerful of a connection,” Remus said, thinking. “Sometimes they can develop a sense of the other’s agency, like what that person is feeling but I’ve never read of anyone developing a full telepathic connection.”

Lily let out a breath. “Good. Well, at least that’s one good thing.”

“You think I have one with Voldemort?” Harry asked, aghast. He did not think that was a good thing.

“Merlin,” James said from the couch. “You do. How did we miss that?”

“Running for our lives?” Sirius offered.

Lily turned to Harry, offering a smile that did little to comfort him. “He can’t track you, that’s the important thing. It explains why you can sense him but at least we know you’re not leading him straight to you.”

Like signal fire, Harry thought. Little did they know how much danger actually found him.

“Too bad we can’t use it to find him,” Sirius said. He was playing with an apple while they talked, tossing it from hand to hand and rolling it on the counter. “That would be too easy.”

“Do we want to?” Remus asked. “I had the impression we were avoiding him. Or did we come here for the atmosphere?”

A bird chirped from somewhere in the ceiling.

“He’s right, Moony,” James said. “Running away hasn’t been working. He knows everything we do. The Order’s finished.”

“We can’t just attack him either,” Lily said. “We don’t know where he is, who he’s with or how to even defeat him.”

“Well, let’s start with who’s a Death Eater,” James said. “Rosier.”

“Pettigrew,” Sirius said with a snarl. “Snape.”

Lily glared at him and then sighed. “Mulcibur.”

“Barty Crouch,” said Harry. Everyone turned to him in shock.

James stood. “What?”

“He tortured the Longbottoms,” Harry said, recalling the trial he had witnessed in Dumbledore's memory. “With the… Lestranges.”

“The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” Lily asked in shock.

Harry frowned in confusion. “Oh, no. His son.”

“Dragon balls,” Sirius said. “That explains a lot.”

“The Lestranges,” Remus said. “It certainly does.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I knew dear cousin would be on their side. That’s nothing shocking. It’s shocking if they got caught.”

Lily chewed at her finger nail. “Poor Alice.”

“Where did you hear that?” James asked.

Harry shrugged, thinking it harder to explain. “Voldemort named the men in the graveyard,” he said instead.

“Who else?” Remus asked.

Harry thought back to the circle of black robes around the large cauldron and the pale face that addressed them. He shivered violently and a hand held his shoulder. When he looked, Lily gave him a reassuring nod.

“Well,” he said. “There was… Crabbe, Avery, Macnair.” He could see them as Voldemort addressed him. “The Lestranges were absent. I think they’re in prison.”

“They aren’t now,” Sirius said. “Or is it ‘yet’?” He looked to Remus who simple shrugged.

“He called them most loyal,” Harry said. He remembered that now, unsure why the detail had stuck. He didn’t know of the Lestranges before but if they were most loyal to the Dark Lord, he certainly would know of them soon.

“They’d definitely house him,” Sirius said. “It’d be their biggest honor.”

“Yes but,” Lily scowled at the idea, “isn’t that like putting a king in a castle? It’s very straightforward. The Blacks and Lestranges have a history with, well.” She looked at Sirius.

“You can say persecution and homicide,” Sirius said. “You’re not wrong.”

“He’s not above being in a castle,” James said. “If it’s well protected.”

“But is it?” Lily asked. “We don’t know how many followers he actually has. More than likely they’re not with him. Didn’t we think that’s why he wanted the werewolves?”

“It’s a lot of ‘ifs’,” Remus said. “Who else do you remember, Harry?”

“Just those,” Harry said. “Well, and Malfoy.” He thought that went without saying though.

“Malfoy?” Lily asked, looking at James. “I don’t know a Malfoy.”

“Old family,” James said. He looked to Sirius. “Didn’t your cousin marry one?”

“Cissy,” Sirius said. He scratched his chin. “Quiet group but not much outside the old family values of dark magic and blood purity.”

It was strange to think that no one had heard of the Malfoys. For all Draco’s talk, when one wasn’t in school they certainly didn’t mean anything at all. Harry smiled at that thought.

“Perfect place to hide,” Remus remarked. “A family uninvolved in politics. A secret alliance.”

"Secretly uninvolved," Sirius said. "They'd have to have some play for Cissy to marry in."

“That’s too big a gamble,” James said, “even for you, Moony. No proof they're the secret family behind Voldemort.”

"Except," Lily said, leaning against the wall, "that they're laying low now only to be a major player in Voldemort's come back in the future."

“So you’re saying our two best options for locating the Dark Lord of the Sith are my insane cousin or my slightly less insane cousin.” Sirius bit into an apple he’d been playing with the entirety of the conversation. “Sounds right.”

“Well,” Harry said, regretting even thinking of the idea. It'd come to him when he thought of the trial and he couldn't get rid of it. “There is someone who we could ask.”

All eyes were on him, which he grew to hate the more it happened. These weren’t just his parents and teachers, these were fighters. He shouldn’t be the one telling them anything.

“Professor Snape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's beard, I've rewritten this chapter 3 times. I'm hope it's up to quality. The holidays were rough but I hope they met you well.
> 
> Have you noticed that EVERYONE ends up teaching at Hogwarts? I think the marauders just realized this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody loves Snape, right? Right?

The house was silent aside from the crashing sound of waves from outside for all of thirty seconds before Sirius ventured a voice.

“For a moment,” he said with a mouth still full of apple, “I thought you said ‘Professor Snape’.” He barked a laugh and sprayed bits of apple core to the floor before swallowing his mouth full.

Harry looked to Remus as if he alone understood the secrets of the future. “Snape became a professor,” he told them all but to Remus in particular. Perhaps the boy knew which one was the voice of reason in the group. “You worked together in my time.”

The tone of the last comment seemed to Remus that “worked” was not the word Harry wanted to use. James was already balling his fists.

“No,” he said, his voice edged in steel. “Absolutely not.”

Lily bit her lip, looking from her son to her husband in obvious concern. “Maybe he’s-”

“After everything he’s done?” James threw his hand to the side, spelling a chair into the wall. It broke into pieces, sending dust and wood chips into the air. “I’d just as soon kill him for even touching my son.”

“We don’t know everything he’s done,” Lily said but even she looked skeptical.

“We know he’s a black arts nutjob,” Sirius said with true malice. “We’ve all been on the receiving ends of his speciality spells.”

Harry looked to be lost with this information. Obviously this didn’t seem to be the professor he was used to dealing with.

“Harry,” Remus addressed, hoping to at least distract the room’s hatred by getting to the point at hand, “why do you think he’d be a good source?”

Harry mussed with his hair, too familiar a jester with James standing a foot away. 

“I don’t much like him either,” he said, “or him me, honestly. But Dumbledore trusts him. He vouched for him at a Death Eater’s hearing. I think he was a spy.”

Well, Remus thought, that would certainly be a reason Harry would suggest him then.

“Of course he doesn’t like you,” Sirius said. “I’m surprised he hasn’t killed you.”

Harry’s face was that of a student hiding the obvious secret from the professors but Remus, again, was not going to comment on it.

“We’re not going to him,” James said again, sternly.

“Dumbledore said there was a spy,” Lily said. She had her voice back and looked to the ceiling in thought. “At the meeting. Remember?”

“I remember agreeing that was probably a bad move,” Sirius said. “He was going to alert us about another attack but look at that - we were attacked!”

“If Voldemort killed the younger Voldemort,” Harry said suddenly, “I don’t think anyone else knew it was coming. He came looking for me, not to wipe out the Order.”

“Yes,” Remus agreed. “Peter’s information had a time limit, true, but the entire Order wasn’t there. He wanted to know where Harry was. And we want to know where Voldemort is.”

Lily gently touched her husband’s arm and spoke softly. “If he did know where he was, he would tell me.”

James held her gaze but it was not a kind stare. “It’s a trap,” he said. “I don’t trust him. You shouldn’t either.”

She held his arm a bit firmer. “I don’t trust him. I trust my son.” She looked back to Harry who looked both shocked and embarrassed by the statement. She turned back to James. “And you should trust me.”

James offered nothing but a sigh. It seemed to please Lily, enough that she turned to the rest of them to seek their own conclusions.

“I agree with Lily,” Remus said. Really, he agreed with Harry from the start. If Dumbledore vouched for Snape than Remus trusted him. After all, Dumbledore was vouching for Remus as well. That meant more to him than school grudges. 

Sirius huffed and stalked towards the door. He slammed it shut so the whole house shook.

“He’ll come around,” Remus told Harry, who looked visually worried.

“Not so sure about that,” James muttered and stalked towards the bedroom.

Lily frowned at Remus, hoping for comfort but the half-blood had nothing left to give. The day had turned into two and would soon drag into three. They all needed sleep to rest their bodies and spirits. To adjust to the new situation. It was all beginning to feel slightly dream-like, being in this strange wooden house on an island in the middle of nowhere with a half-grown version of his friend’s son.

The stovetop sputtered at the contents of a pot boiled over.

“Well,” Remus said, “I think we should at least eat. Though we may have ruined the soup.”

  
  
  


Provisions on the run included a couple cans of soup, a loaf of bread and some beer they managed to pilfer between apparitions. Sirius Black, sitting alone on the rocks surrounded by waves and the ever-growing annoyance of gulls, produced a more useful provision.

The most surprising thing about it all was that it’d taken Sirius this long to produce the flask. Remus could’ve counted a number of times it would’ve been produced on other occasions. He wondered, while watching his friend take a long and steady drink from the silver container, if he simply missed the act or if the extra passenger on their mission was influencing the dog’s behavior. 

“For Godrick’s sakes, Moon,” Sirius gruffed, not turning, “stop staring and join me.”

Remus crossed the piled rocks and picked the smoothest he could find to bench. He reached for the flask, stealing it from Black’s long fingers easily.

“You should just sleep,” Remus said. “You’d be less arse-like.”

Sirius tossed a stone into the waves. It disappeared into the dark water like it mattered little to the turning tides. 

“What do you think that’s for?” he asked with a motion of his head. “Party’s over, mate.”

Remus took a sip, feeling the burn in his mouth travel down his throat and into his stomach. “Speak for yourself,” Lupin said, trying not to scowl in distaste. “I finally get to shower.”

“About time, too.” Sirius laughed at the weak attempt of a punch in his shoulder. “You smell like you’ve been eating rats.”

“At least I have an excuse,” Remus said. “You have no reason to go around looking like the living dead.”

Sirius glared at him through the dirty locks of hair that had fallen in his face. It was messy and unkempt, falling out of a ponytail without any chance of being salvaged. When he turned back to the sea, the freed curls barely bounced, weighed down by dirty and grease.

“It’s so fragile,” Sirius said, so quietly Remus might not have heard him. “What happens when it breaks?”

Remus looked out to the dark sea, out where the sun slowly sank deeper towards the horizon in an effort to hide from winter. He felt the familiar bond with his friends, waiting in this shack like those years ago when the moon was on the rise. His worries always focused on bones, cuts, hurting his friends - breaking. They never treated him as fragile back then when perhaps he was the most breakable. James, Sirius, even Peter - His curse was not the end.

So Remus responded with the only answer that came to him.

“We fix it.”

  
  
  


It’d been admittedly a long time since James Potter felt like an ass. One would think a growing good record would decrease the displeasure at being caught but the look on Lily’s face as she turned down the bed made his stomach drop the same way it had the first time he had disappointed her. 

What was worse - he didn’t feel particular wrong about his choice. Snape was not a good idea. Not only had he been corrupted long ago by the other Slytherin pure bloods but there was no telling what acts of villainy he’d performed in Voldemort’s name for more power. Lily wouldn’t understand that losing her, the only good thing about the git, was the like losing the last sliver of moon. It was all darkness now.

Still, that _look_ would make any husband grovel.

“How’s your head?” he asked as casually as he could muster. He’d patched it as best he could but still worried the Dark Lord had done something worse to his wife.

Lily touched her forehead where the cut was, still healing magically with the help of a potion. James approached as confidently as he could muster and covered her fingers with his own. Her hands were cold.

“I trust you,” he said quietly. He needed her to know, to understand. “It’s him I don’t.”

She looked up at him, her green eyes as clear as her heart and as strong as her spirit. One day soon he’d see them in the sunlight again while she laughed. Or in candle light beckoning to him. One day he’d bring back the joy in those eyes.

“We can’t win this war,” she said. They weren’t words of fear or sorrow but words of truth, a fact she’d recite at study group. “Not if we don’t believe there are enough people out there willing to fight with us.”

James tried not to sigh, not to show his displeasure at the idea of Severus Snape.

“He hasn’t fought for anyone but himself,” he said.

Lily drew away and sat on the bed, exhaustion motivating her. “He’s fought for me.”

There wasn’t anything more to discuss. James felt his bones ache as he slipped into bed besides his wife. It wasn’t perfect but she was with him. Despite their disagreement, she let him hold her close under the covers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a short chapter and more talking. I wanted to combine it with the next one but it's taking me a long time to write and I wanted to update. 
> 
> I also want to thank everyone taking the time to leave comments. I really appreciate them. Again, I've only just started sharing my writing so the feedback has been very generous and motivating.
> 
> One more thing - This isn't a Snape-bashing. I plan on writing my interpretation of who Snape was at this time. I know there's a lot of passionate people about hating Snape and others about loving him. It's clear the marauders (and Harry) don't like Snape and Snape doesn't like them. I just want my readers to know my intention isn't to bash any character but just write a compelling story.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The marauders enlist the help of one of their least favorite people - Severus Snape. Will he help or leave them to their new fate?

The weather in Cokeworth took a dive from the gentle November winds the Marauders had been lucked with so far. Upon arrival the sky opened and released all the pain of last three days upon the houses in a steady downpour. 

It felt like a decade since Lily Evans walked the cobbled streets that led to Spinner’s End. Each house reflected back at her in memory, not a detail out of place. It only served to remind her that it was not so long ago that she had once been a student in school, living here with her parents and sister, walking to a friend’s. Three years, she realized. How had so much changed in three years?

Disconnection grew as Lily approached the house where her friend used to live. Now it housed a stranger to her, familiar in name alone with no guarantee of welcome. She watched her hand knock on the door, rapping gently on the wood. For the briefest moments between the sounds, she wanted to run.

The door opened revealing the long hair of a tall man. Pale skin and crooked nose with dark robes and eyes. He looked as different as he did the same. 

“Severus,” she heard her voice say.

His eyes went wide. His hand shot out, grasping her arm in a tight, painful grip and pulled her through the doorway. The disillusionment spell broke and Lily felt herself return to full sense, like a spirit grounded in the moment once more. 

A spell. Of course. 

“What are you doing here?” Severus snapped as he sealed the door behind them.

Lily turned, pulling the scarf from her head to better reveal herself. Water dripped from it onto the floor in tiny puddles. 

“I need your help,” she said. She kept his eye contact, hoping to find any form of kindness in their blackness. All she found was shadow. “My family is in danger and you’re the only one that can help us.”

Severus moved past her, out of the entryway. She cast a glance out the window where she was sure James waited under his cloak before following. Severus brought her to a sitting room stocked with books and a potion cauldron. He flicked his wand, disappearing the contents before Lily could see what it was.

“I have no love for your family,” Severus said harshly as Lily sat. He folded himself in the armchair across from her but his posture still looked stiff and forced. “Especially your husband.”

“He’s the reason I’m alive,” she said, hoping to gain some ground in this impossible task. “Voldemort nearly killed me last night. And the night before.”

Severus said nothing and made no movement at the information but he didn’t interject, either. She saw it as a chance.

“You knew about it, didn’t you?” she asked. “You knew I was being targeted. It’s the only reason I was in hiding.”

She never told James her suspicions, never dared to speak them aloud. But who else would leak her name to Dumbledore? Who would care about a mudblood being targeted by the Dark Lord when so many were already dying? It was a thought, just a simple one, she rolled around in her mind every now and then when stress dug it up. Then she’d put it back and buried it again.

Severus didn’t deny it. His mouth drew tight, a frown in a straight line that looked as painful to make as it did to see. The worst part of confirming your ex-friend sparing your life was learning he was close enough to the enemy to get that information.

That his only deed was to spare her meant he still only saw her as an exception to a rule he believed in.

“What do you want, Lily?” Severus asked, his voice tense. His fingers laced together but she saw the strain there. He was as distressed seeing her as she was asking him this. What was he risking, allowing her to enter his home and be seen with a muggle-born?

“He’s not going to stop until he kills my son, Severus,” she said. “Not unless we stop him first.”

Severus finally seemed to relax, a cynical smile pulling at his lips. “That’s impossible.”

“You know where he is. We know how to kill him.” Well, they knew he could be killed. 

“A brilliant plan,” he said. “Did Potter come up with it? I suppose he is just smart enough to think bursting in would be enough to kill the Dark Lord.”

This wasn’t getting them anywhere.

“We have information we’ve never had before,” Lily said. “The kind he wouldn’t want used against him. The sooner we strike, the better.”

Severus studied her. She felt his eyes looking at her, like he could see the things she didn’t want to reveal.

“What information?”

Lily shook her head. She promised James not to reveal Harry. “That’s our business.”

“Not if you’re asking me to reveal the location to the most dangerous wizard,” Severus said. “I need reassurances.”

“I can’t give them to you,” she said. “Except that it’s the right thing to do.”

Severus folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. “No.”

“Severus, please.”

He held her gaze but his expression remained steady. “I will not risk my life for your delusional husband and his moronic friends. Or thier ill-organized club.”

Lily sighed, trying hard to think of something, anything, she could offer Severus. Something other than Harry and his story. Something that could prove to him how important this was - how capable they were. 

She reached into her pocket, fingering her wand. It was something she always did when fidgeting. The soft wood felt in place with her fingers, in her hand. It was such a simple thing to do yet an easy action that sparked an idea.

“We have his wand,” she said. 

“Impossible,” Severus said. Not in disbelief but in the firm statement that it wasn’t a possibility. 

Lily grinned. “We do. We won it from him.”

“He has his wand,” Severus said, though neglected to mention how he knew that. “Trickery is not becoming, Lily.”

“Give me a moment, I’ll be right back.” Lily rose to her feet and left the room, journeying to the door. Severus watched her , following with his eyes as she opened the door and conversed with a section of air. There seemed to be a disagreement with the invisible stranger before a hand appeared floating with a brown slender package. Lily took it, closed the door and returned.

Severus looked amused by all of this but his face returned to stone as Lily sat down again. She handed over the package to him with an intense look.

It was a flat piece of brown paper folded over several times with an indentation where something long lay hidden. Severus undid the wrapping to find the pale piece of wood and started as if finding a cursed object.

“Impossible,” he said again in a much different tone.

“He has another,” she said. “It’s a very...complicated story. But this is authentic. It’s his, Severus. We’ve beaten him before, we can do it again. We can put a stop to all of it. With your help.”

He looked up at her, meeting her green eyes with his own and finally she saw a glimmer of the boy she knew at school. The humanity inside all that pain and darkness. 

He put the wand and paper on the side table and stood, facing away from her to watch the fire in the fireplace. Silence entered the room, a silence Lily didn’t dare break. Severus was still, his shoulders tense as he watched the flames flicker against the bottom of the cauldron.

Finally, he spoke.

“Malfoy Manor,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. Life, man. This is supposed to be longer but the rest of the chapter wasn't working and I got the impression you guys wanted an update. I was just so nervous about Snape and second guessing everything. Gonna go back to just having fun. 
> 
> Again, special thanks for all the kudos and comments. They're always appreciated and brighten my day.


End file.
